The final bell temporarily emancipates the students. “I’m going to McDonalds,” they declare, the way people declare their aspirations and dreams. Another routine proposition: “Let’s go blow trees.” “That seems futile, trees are sturdy,” I would think. I stride quickly, and simultaneously insert a cold ham sandwich into where food is inserted, fueling myself with adenosine triphosphate. I get on a bus. After 35 minutes of being a human sardine, I get off and stride across the street. The great Seal of California, carved in stone, is on the building that I enter. I have an employee badge, but wait in line for the guards and the metal detectors anyway. “One day, I’ll actually use my badge and I will walk right past them.” I get to my work station. “Hi, how was school?” I am greeted. My supervisor is a nice lady and sometimes I miss her. Anyway, I start working. The files can bury me, but I won’t let them. Instead, I shelve them; in numerical, alphabetical and chronological orders while keeping my professional and zen composure. The two and three-Ls shadow attorneys, but little-old-me only get to read about the things they do, and file their pre-trial motions. “When I become an attorney, I’ll give my intern everything. I will be the kind of mentor that they can love and appreciate,” I silently declare. At five o’clock I leave, but first I have to deliver tomorrow’s calendars. I deliver them and I leave. “When I move to San José for college, this place will not remember me.” As I walk out, I think, “That is okay, because in seven years, or two thousand five hundred fifty-five days, I will return here, and my suffix will be JD.”
Andrew Wu is a communication studies major at SJSU. He spends his spare time as a novelist and philanthropist.
The Bolt Magazine 