A preface to lunch I won't be wearing a suit this summer

Author: James O'Brien

Thank God the school year is over! And what a year it's been … etc. … Now I can enjoy myself for a couple months before hitting the proverbial wall at the beginning of August when I start to fantasize about Middlebury. Then I'll get to Middlebury and start to fantasize about August.

I'm currently looking for a summer job. I haven't had any takers, which is surprising given my stellar resume. My past summer jobs include working as an ice-cream technician at a local establishment and serving as lieutenant of the activities department in a nursing home.

I was fired from the ice cream gig after about a month because my boss told me, "You don't seem to care about ice cream." I told her that if she was insinuating that I should somehow be treating ice cream as if it were my autographed Backstreet Boys poster, then she was a loony. No, I did not care very much about ice cream, nor did I very much enjoy crushing the hopes and dreams of many children by informing them that we did not offer sprinkles or flavor samples.

For my next summer job, I wheeled elderly people into and out of elevators, called Bingo and tried to get them to reminisce about their glory days. A typical morning would consist of me reading the morning paper to a crowd of 15 eccentric senior citizens whom I'd assembled in front of me in three rows.

Dottie S. had to sit near me in a special chair with a buckle. I made sure that she was restrained so that she wouldn't wander off in search of her past while I was trying to get her to reminisce. Phyllis, a former schoolteacher, was far too mentally capable to be grouped in with the others, and, unfortunately, she knew it. She only came to a few morning groups and usually left her room only to smoke cigarettes and her fellow residents in Bingo. I was glad that Phyllis usually stayed in her room, because she was the only resident who was aware enough to notice what a crappy job I was doing. There was an elderly couple - Dr. Bill and Emily - who would eat sugar, salt and ketchup packets during the morning group. I can't imagine that this was very healthy for them, but, since Bill was a doctor, the staff didn't seem too worried.

After two years of this type of work, I need to find something else. I surveyed my friends about their jobs and learned that there are several ways Middlebury students will choose to spend their time this summer. A few are listed below.

The Resume Builders. These people wear suits to their summer jobs. They probably work in the financial sector.

The Desperate Resume Builders. Have you accepted a position working at an independent ant evaluation plant in Arkansas? Then you have the distinct title of "Desperate Resume Builder." Unfortunately, your job does not involve receiving the wisdom of Midas. It involves telling people whether you think certain ants will get along with the other residents in their ant farm. You will spend an entire three months doing something you hate so that you can write "INTERN" on your transcript.

Saving the World. A few of my friends do something like this every summer. They parachute into the Congo to bring Rice Krispie Treats and cell phones to the technologically impaired. Then they teach those same grateful peoples how to read before handing them condoms and booking it back to the U.S in time to get a tan.

The Abroaders. These clever bastards have somehow convinced someone somewhere to subsidize their vacation in Europe. They travel to France or Prague and come back culturally enriched with simple, yet exotic, STDs.

Campers. You have been going to camp for the past 11 summers, and you are not about to stop just because you might be a bit too old for capture the flag. Yes, you are a counselor, and they do pay you, but it may be time to move on. You should probably listen to your mom and become a Resume Builder.

Lazies. I more or less fall into this category of people. We refuse to look for jobs because working for pay is not only scary but somehow against our moral codes. I will spend my days trying to recover my lost childhood by wandering shirtless around the Medfield town square muttering to myself about my hatred of ice cream.

James O'Brien '10 is an English major from Medfield, Mass.