Pay Attention--You May Need This Later

When I was a senior in high school, we played a game called "Amazon Woman." The idea of the game was for the guys to link arms and legs together in a human blob-like structure while the girls would attempt to pull us apart one by one, thus exerting their womyn-ness and all of the supposed sexual superiority that goes with it. I vaguely remember them chanting at one point and the phrase "hear me roar!" seems to come to mind. I remember one game in particular when the girls had whittled the giant mass of masculinity down to just me and another guy. After 45 minutes of clinging to him in the most heterosexual way you can imagine, the girls conceded the match and we retained our sense of dignity.

I didn't realize that the tenacity required in that game would later serve a purpose. Sunday I responded to a violent-patient code on the adolescent residential unit. This kid had not only destroyed part of the ceiling and began using the broken ceiling tiles as projectiles, but he was also brandishing a metal recessed lighting trim, daring any of the staff to make a move. We were able to get the light trim away from him. That's when he went into his room, took off his leather belt (yes, somehow he still had his belt), wrapped it around his hand, and came at me with it. He was about two feet away from me before he was tackled to the ground. Once we got him on his stomach, I sat on the back of his calves and just watched him struggle against us with every ounce of his being while we put him in restraints. After less than 10 minutes, he conceded the match and the staff was able to retain its sense of dignity.

Jason--2; girls and punkass teenagers--0.

While Walking Through The Mall

Me: "Is it absolutely necessary for female mannequins to have protruding nipples?"

Meredith: "Well, how else would you tell it's a mannequin?"

Me: "I don't know, maybe because IT DOESN'T HAVE A HEAD!?"

They Are Found In All Walks Of Life

How does one respond to a person who has attained advanced degrees in the study of human behavior and yet cannot seem to manage one's own life? You would think they would've picked up something along the way.

I've decided all you can do is avoid making eye contact and continue eating your salad in silence.

Scrubs

A couple of months ago I had the opportunity to catch up with some of my old friends from Florida. They were having a graduation party and they passed the phone around so I could briefly catch up with everybody. Basically, I gave the same spiel five different times as they asked the same question: "So what are you up to these days?!" By the third telling, my response became almost automatic: Graduated in 04, Virginia Tech, psychology, working for an electrician, looking for a job. It wasn't until later that I realized I had completely left out my stint as a covert CIA operative.

And then the phone was handed to Joe. Joe had his share of rough times in college, but he worked hard, landed a great internship, and now has a great job as a civil engineer. We all said that if anyone deserved a change of luck, it was Joe. So I asked how he was liking his life these days.

"Oh, OH! Love job! Love the engineering! I can't say it enough. I've got job security, great money. I'll tell anyone in high school who isn't sure what to major in, 'be an engineer.' Because to be honest with you, there are a lot of bullshit majors out there, ya know?"

I could tell it was on the tip of his tongue and he stopped short for some reason. I wanted to finish the thought for him: "You mean bullshit majors like psychology?"

Fast forward two months later. I now have a job that is as entertaining as it is challenging. And I never have to question the authenticity of my reasons for working there: I know it has nothing to do with the money. But due to a change in policy, something has been added to the equation that all of the job security and salary in the world cannot measure up to.

Starting today, I get to wear scrubs to work. I no longer have to spend my days off doing laundry and ironing. I'll tell anyone in high school, "major in psychology--you'll get to wear scrubs!"* Everyone should be so lucky.

*But plan on going to graduate school to become a licensed therapist. Then you can charge $120/hr to the engineers who can't cope with their cold, soul-robbing corporate jobs.