A college diploma does not come in a half-size. If you ask for it this way you will, at best, get similar treatment to trying to order half a Grand Slam at Denny's. You will get a confused and irritated look and someone will spit in your eggs. Half a college diploma does not get you anywhere, which is why I was happy to walk through the doors of Target this morning and begin my orientation with the red army.
This isn't to say that working as a stocker is beneath me. After all, I've worked extensively as a stalker, and they sound almost exactly the same. I just figured two years of college would give me a little bit more credibility in my job hunt. After all, what are companies looking for if not the ability to complete Luigi's Raceway in under 1:45 or make up for three weeks of sobriety in 20 minutes?
Obviously, my speed and productivity in a position of greater responsibility would make all my older co-workers and supervisors look like incompetent, lazy slobs. This would in turn create the impression that intelligence drastically lowers with age, and would then force us into a misguided society that forces everyone over 35 to be turned into part of the food supply to power the young. If I had a college degree, someone might at least be able to determine we should be putting USC graduates into the food supply instead.
I must acknowledge my potential employers for their impressive foresight in this matter, and therefore reluctantly salute them into their choice to not hire me and spare the world this bleak fate. However, until I came to this conclusion, which is as soothing to me as Jeff Foxworthy is to the hollow souls of so many of my countrymen, I was a little let down. My job hunt didn't so much provide rejection as it didn't provide anything. It was like I had fought a piñata with all my might, yet after it's paper-maché body split in half it yielded only cold and empty darkness instead of Starburst and Laffy Taffy. I was left to wonder: Would I consider working at a Del Taco? And also, did I just decapitate Dora the Explorer?
Yet, like in Pandora's box, I saw something glinting weakly inside the piñata: mid-level retail that maintains much better brand image than its competitors. A voice bellowed from the heavens, "You are welcome here. Please pee in this cup."