A circle roughly the size of a dorm room was dimly lit from above. A darkness consumed everything else, keeping the rest of the world out and the floor was hidden from view by a thick fog. Four figures stood along the perimeter as I nervously glanced around from the center of the light. When the individuals shifted their stance from time to time, the fog twisted and rolled, curling upwards, in a vain attempt to conquer the light.
The entire scene was fitting, considering the situation. With graduation impending, I am finishing up a year that had some of the most significant changes and experiences of my life. After five years, I am now highly skilled and prepared to succeed in an industry, and yet I'm sure of less now than ever before. This, plus I'm still relatively dorky. It only makes sense that my current internal conflict would have the setting akin to a very cheap and cliché sci-fi movie.
As I slowly circled in attempt to keep an eye on everyone, Drake appeared at my side. For those who missed out, back in February I introduced Drake, my inner frat boy. His appearance could only mean I was in for some seriously sketchy life lesson. That or a metaphysical keg was waiting to be tapped. Possible both.
Well, uhh, dude… you'ff gotta choosss one,\ he managed to say with more effort than one would expect.
""Have you been drinking?!?"" I asked.
""Uhmm, no. Yur face is been drinkin',"" he muttered back.
""That doesn't even make sense. Here, just tell me what's going on and you can go pass out.""
""OOH-Kaayyee."" Great, I thought, he's going to start imitating Lil Jon. But letting loose a belch, Drake focused. ""These people arr, um, your possi… possibilities. Pick who you wanna be…""
And with that, Drake faded away again, though the odor of stale beer lingered on.
""Alright, let's get this over with. You there,"" I pointed at the largest of the shadowed figure. ""I'll be you.""
""Good choice, Eric. As a highly educated professional, taking my way of life will allow you to be hugely successful."" It was Dr. Phil. I threw up a little in the back of my mouth.
""Dude, man, slow down."" Dave Grohl stepped into the light. ""This is how you're going to be defined for a major portion of the rest of your life. You can live the fame and fun-filled life of a rock star. Or you can be agile, skilled and mysterious like a ninja.""
On cue the third figure stepped forward. ""Or you can be charming and enjoy the lust-full life of a pimp.""
The final figure sauntered into the light. ""Or you can be a blowhard jackass."" Dr. Phil nodded.
""Hey, come on, man."" as I stared at him, Dave Grohl interrupted my thoughts. ""You know you want to be a rock star. There's drugs, at least for a while. You kids still like drugs, right?""
""OK, first off, I have to shave at least twice a week. I am not a kid."" I answered. ""And secondly, not all of us do drugs. Personally, if I did it would be a disservice to the DARE bear I won in 5th grade.""
""Well then,"" Dave replied, showing respect for my plush-based drug-free choice. ""What about your dreams of accomplishment? I know you decided that you'd never consider yourself successful until some overly perky co-ed came up and asked you to sign her chest. Now that is rock star, and that is what you get going my route.""
As I continued staring at the lead singer of the Foo Fighters, I wondered if it was possible to trade in my inner frat boy…
Which identity will Eric choose. Place bets by e-mailing ejjensen3@wisc.edu and find out next week.
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