The DFW College Fair Circuit: Day 3

The face of God?


Because my work for this week is exclusively at night, I've had the chance to catch up on some very important TV watching in between answering e-mails and dealing with various other work-related issues via the magic of the internet.

This morning, I had the opportunity to watch my all-time favorite game show, "The Price Is Right". And as I watched today, I was once again reminded of why this show is most likely the closest thing we have to a utopia. Yes Belinda, heaven truly is a place on earth. Think about it Kids. From the outset of the show, you see an entire group of people, both young and old, of various socio-economic backgrounds and ethnic diversities coming together as one to go apeshit the moment that Bob Barker walks out onto that stage. Hell, they go apeshit when Thad from Arizona State wins a new fucking dishwasher. When the words "Come on down!" are bellowed from on high, everyone is high-fiving and hugging and screaming and going bonkers. Total strangers who would probably be giving each other the Heisman on most days, are acting like family members who just found out they won the lottery. People earn their way on stage, love is freely given, and Bob lets all the bitches--young, old, fat, thin, hot, ass ugly--kiss him on the cheek. And hey, if they hit the bid on the nose in Contestants' Row, he lets them dig in his pocket for cash! In the outside world, Bob would get thrown in jail for such blatant acts of pimpery. But not inside the Bob Barker Studios in Television City, California. No, no. From new cars to Plinko to the Big Wheel to Barker's Beauties who never get old (primarily because Bob grasps the sports concept of the need to constantly be getting "younger at that position"), the "Price Is Right" embodies everything that is and can be good about humanity.

And Now, Back to the Hell of Reality

Here are the highlight observations from my night of table jockeying at this evening's college fair:

1. The school I went to just opened a few years ago and follows in the trend of other new, cookie cutter models that are so very trendy at the moment in lovely Dallas-Fort Worth. But get this for a color scheme: The walls were trimmed in stripes of blue, green, and two, yes TWO different shades of orange. The ceiling had red checkerboard patterns. This defilement is made worse by the fact that the basic model of the school is common but that this school apparently decided to get creative with the color scheme. Have you guys ever seen "The Brady Bunch Movie"? Remember how Mike Brady, the architect, basically presented the exact same design of a building no matter what kind of company he was designing for? The only variation would be the sign outside. He basically could only design one building. Well, that's what this school looked like--a place whose ugliness was found both in its homogeneous nature, but also in its uniquely terrible modifications. If this school was a person, he'd get his ass kicked for acting like he was color blind when he was really just a dipshit whose mother didn't love him enough.

2. Note to parents and children: Don't wear the t-shirt of your favorite college to a college fair. It's sort of like wearing the t-shirt of your favorite band to that band's concert. It doesn't make you a good fan, it makes you a total dill.

3. A woman came up to me tonight, took one of my college's brochures and asked me to sign it. I know I sorta remind people of Vince Vaughn, but really, c'mon. But alas, she had something else in mind. She said her son had been assigned to get a college brochure and have the recruiter sign it as verification that he had been there. I asked her if her son was around. She said he didn't feel like coming out that night. Great parenting, Mom. You're the shit!

4. Kids have no fucking tact, manners, or consideration. There is just something a little questionable about a kid taking one of my pencils and using it to fill out another college's info cards and using my table to do it. Kids are such douches. I was SO made for this job.

5. A woman (approximately) who seemed to be a cross between Roseanne Barr and Jabba the Hutt asked me this well thought out question: "What is your dance program?"
How do I even answer that? Um, it's a dance program? She then asked me if we offered a "competitive dance" degree. No, we sure don't. But I'll make sure to get that on the agenda along with the competitive scrapbooking and competitive oragami majors I'd like to see created. Shit. Maybe she should lay off the competitive eating before she worries about getting her equally disfigured daughter into competitive dancing. I don't have anything against fat people. Just fat people who are stupid. And if you have a problem with that, remember that I'm a minority and can say whatever I want.

6. I saw a midget tonight and I giggled. Why? Because midgets are fucking funny.


Enjoy your day, Kids. Keep the faith. And if you ever begin losing that faith, watch a little "Price Is Right" and recharge those spiritual happy fun batteries. And if that doesn't work, you can blame me and I'll pretend real hard that I care. I love you.