Countdown
by Theresa Milstein
I turn from the
television and glance at the clock.
I have thirty
minutes.
One more show.
The TBS channel
runs a steady stream of nostalgia: I
Dream of Jeanie, Bewitched, Leave it to Beaver, The Andy Griffith Show, The
Brady Bunch. All before my time, though technically I watched them in
reruns as a kid, so they’re a part of my childhood too. Adults look back at
their favorite shows, and long for those better times. But were they really
anyone’s good times?
A coffee
commercial.
I need coffee.
I’ll grab some on
the way.
Yesterday, I went
to my English 101 class for nothing. It’s the third time we’ve been stood up.
This time the professor collapsed in the parking lot. He’s got emphysema. The
old man’s so addicted to cigarettes that he smokes a fake one during class.
When doesn’t collapse, that is. Assistant professors get only ten minutes
before we’re allowed to leave. Because he’s a full professor, we have to wait
twenty minutes to see if he shows up. Thirty minutes to commute plus ten
minutes to park and walk, plus twenty minutes to wait, times two equals… a big
waste of time. I should quit smoking.
More commercials.
I have twelve
minutes.
What show’s up
next?
I won’t get to
watch it anyway. This morning I have math lecture. Not that there’s any point
in sitting through it. I’ll be lost among the hundreds staring at the small man
on stage. The only “help” comes from a recent Chinese immigrant who teaches my
recitation. He stares inches from the board while he solves problems and
whispers in a thick accent. When we ask him to slow down and speak up, he
speeds up. What does he have to be nervous about? I’m the one failing math.
Five minutes.
I’ll sit through
these commercials before the next show.
Then I’ll go.
Science is no
better than math. On the first day, the old man on the stage told us, “I have
tenure. This means I can f*ck a chicken on the stage and they can’t fire me.”
I’d like to see him do that. I’d get more out of the class. On that first day,
he also told us, “Look at the student to your left. Look at the student to your
right. By the end of your freshman year, both of them will be gone.” I thought
that seemed like a high dropout rate. But each week there are fewer of us.
I like this Bewitched episode.
Even though the
“bad” cousin has brown hair like me.
Bad brunette twin
on I Dream of Jeannie too.
At least the
History professor’s class is accessible and interesting. Just like English, his
class is in a regular room too. He sees our potential. The first day he said, “This is 13th
and 14th grade. It’s your second chance.” He always tells us we can
make something of ourselves. While his pep talks are inspiring, in some ways I
feel worse. When I applied, I thought the place was a prestigious alternative
to a community college. Instead I’m the family black sheep at a former
agricultural college. That’s irony, right?
Another
commercial.
If I leave now and
there’s no traffic, I can still make it.
I pull out a
cigarette.
If trouble didn’t
show up on Bewitched, Samantha would be
bored. Why doesn’t she have a job all those episodes before she has the baby? It’s
weird that all the women on these shows are stay-at-home moms. When I was a
kid, most of the moms I knew stayed home. Now they’re all divorcing and working
at garbage jobs, like my mother. That won’t be me. When my parents’ divorce
finally goes through, my dad, sister and I will flee this hellhole. Then I can concentrate
on homework without her screaming.
I don’t get why
Samantha isn’t allowed to use her powers.
Jeannie isn’t
either.
Who wouldn’t
perform magic to make their lives better?
In real life, we
can’t improve our destinies with a twitch or a blink. Life just keeps moving on
and making demands, even if we’re not ready. I’m eighteen, and I already have
regrets. In high school, I free time working or hanging with friends without a
plan for life afterwards. Now I’m stuck. Most of those friends have gone away
to college where they have new friends, new opportunities. I’ve been left
behind.
I glance at the
clock.
It’s too late to
make it now.
One more show.
