| 2 |

The moments that follow our introduction move effortlessly, as our bullish speech reverberates in the empty room. The bartender is nowhere to be seen. She is out having a smoke, sacrificing hypothermia for killing time. Routine has a tendency to ignore environment.

As always, our dialogue is eerily predictable. His responses seem to (not) matter.

“How long have you been in the business?” I ask.

(eight years)

I wince with sympathy; he sighs with discontent.

“Ten years for me,” I lie. He mockingly laughs.

“Tell me about it,” I continue, “and in those ten years, I’ve learned only one thing: grade school mentality still holds true years after adolescence and well into adulthood.”

(hmm ive been noticing that too)

“Bullies, nerds, and jocks are still separated by lunch cliques. Sure, these groups may seem more diverse than a typical high school setting, but the superficial segregation remains the same. They’ve just gotten better at disguising their real motives by only showing you their intentions a sliver at a time. Perhaps this acts as a way to segregate their ‘professional’ lives with their ‘personal’ lives, or maybe this dishonest tactic makes it easier to step on others to get ahead. Either way it’s counterproductive, and more importantly, disingenuous.

“Rather than uniting under the commonalities of after-school activities, such as sports or academic clubs, these inner-office personalities substitute honest camaraderie with half-truths of a common enemy. After all, it is much easier to criticize than to construct. But it still bares the question: why do these false, immature relationships still exist?”

He opens his mouth to answer, but I interject. “I may have a possible answer. Picture a concrete wall too high to climb over and too wide to go around.”

(okay)

“On one side is prematurity: characteristics such as selfishness, anger, ignorance, manipulation, insecurity, greed, jealousy.” He follows along with a fist under his chin.

(mmm hmm)

“On the other is maturity: compassion, generosity, empathy, kindness, patience, humility.”

(perspective)

“Exactly. Maturity is first taught from parent to child then reinforced in social settings. After the post-war baby boom, worsened by the millennial generation, crucial nurturing buckled under the weight of over population. The parent:child or teacher:student ratio became grossly unbalanced, and a revolving door through the wall separating the two maturities was needed.” He nods and leans forward in peaked interest.

(i see) 

“The neglect of quality development was justified by a crash-course of what was needed to survive and provide; dumbed-down for easier, more efficient social processing. Like a hospital with too many patients, people were diagnosed by surface symptoms, quickly treated, and discharged by the dozens.

“The passing grade dropped from C- to D-, and premature people—those who slipped through door unseen—flooded and contaminated the few that earned their perspective and happiness. Now these unfortunate others must either stumble through a career that, at one point, gave them the perspective and happiness they were trying to protect, or uproot and find new work in an eroding economy.”

(ah-ha)

“The collective workforce settles for a paycheck and reluctantly searches for meaning after close of business, bartering true purpose for convenient contentment. It’s no wonder that most people resent their jobs and resort to a passive, run-out-the-clock work ethic. Case in point…”

I gesture towards the kitchen entrance, but the door remains closed. My foresight informed me that she would arrive at this exact moment of our conversation. Perhaps my altered abilities are finally fading. The room is held in silence, and I can feel his suspicion rising. Fortunately a moment later, the bartender shivers through the door and resumes her station, warming herself with a mobile glow. Had it been one second longer, my motives might have been questioned, potentially ruining the match before it’s even started.

I resume. “It seems the only way out of this spiraling decay is to have an outside force directly affect the individual, thereby increasing self-awareness, perspective…maturity.”

(right) He shakes off his suspicions and reengages.

“But with social injustices, reliable role models, and acts of prejudice happening infrequently, this rite of passage is forgotten and replaced with synthetic experiences, like social media bullying, 24-hour breaking news, role-playing video games, or reality television. Life’s tribulations can be experienced via satellite, a la carte, and fully removed. It’s all a big mess, and everyone does their best to ignore it.”

He grunts in agreement, as my words marinate in the recycled air. The room is enveloped in thought, drowning the dim lighting and filtered music; even the orange glow of the sunless city fades pale. The lights flicker, and an indistinct rumble can be heard but not pinpointed. The bartender remains locked on her phone, oblivious to her surroundings. He notices the power surge and low hum.

The vibration grows louder, as the seconds stretch with stealth. My consciousness anxiously waits to be pulled out of reality and into unconditional bliss. I can faintly hear his next question before he can even think to utter it, as if the entire day was lying in wait, anticipating his next words:

(so what was your rite of passage)

My face twitches, and I blurt out a response:

Funny                 you          should                 ask.