Graduate Shmaduate...

Dear Mum,

Earlier this week I met a policeman.  We started ‘chatting.’ By ‘chatting,’ I mean he asked the one-line questions, I answered and he grunted a reply. In the words of my mother – how rude...

His first question was “Are you at uni?” Reasonable enough. I explained I’ve just graduated.

“What did you study?”

“English” I sung out.

Grunt. “You didn’t speak it good enough before then?” he smirked.

I appreciated his irony – a native English-speaker learning a subject entitled with their language’s name. But his irony transgressed to sarcasm, the everyman’s wit. Furthermore, only I appreciated the irony of his comment, it being poorly phrased with terrible grammar.

“Are you living with your parents?” he asked, his beady squinting eyes piercing through me.

I explained I was house-sitting for you but do have accommodation for the summer. This seemed to receive some approval from him. 

When asked the dreaded question, “What do you want to do next?” however, I replied I wasn’t sure.

He snorted and shook his head. “What was the point in going to uni then?”

Needless to say I was not impressed.

I apologised to him that I did not have a job but if he knew of any available, an internship even, I would be over the moon if he could inform me. As for graduation from uni he was right - it’s an absolute bugger it doesn’t promise a job at the end of it. But, as I explained, I’d made many new acquaintances, learnt how many drinks is one too many, learnt the trials of renting properties, paying bills, paying debts, living independently and was fortunate enough to gain an education alongside this.

As for his previous insinuation regarding those still living with their parents, I think it’s fair to say all of my friends would rather live in their own property. Not that they don’t enjoy being at home, but that freedom they tasted at uni had sadly been consumed by time.  But those students debts mean a job comes first, saving comes second, and moving comes third.

I needed more conclusive answers to his questions, something to diffuse the sharp edge to my voice and satisfy the bigot.

I also thought, being a policeman, a solid profession would be preferable. Excluding pet psychotherapist and cruise ship magician, therefore, I settled upon a secondary school teacher.

Another snort. “Good luck to you. I was a nightmare when I was a teenager.”

“I bet you were,” I said, no sarcasm intended.

Love from your useless graduate of a daughter. X