Shouldn’t I feel like a man by this point? Shouldn’t I feel like I know what the hell I’m doing? I feel like I’m constantly presenting my masters thesis on my manliness and it’s just getting shut down. The review panel is just a US soldier, my dad, and a guy who works at Jiffy Lube.
Me: Well I’m married, does that make me a man?
Me: I have a job and provide for my family. Does that make me a man?
Me: Ooh! I got her pregnant. That’s got to make me a man.
Guy Who Works at Jiffy Lube: Please…
Me: Well damn…I…uh…I patched some drywall last week.
The Panel covers their respective microphones and has a sidebar conversation.
Soldier: How big was the piece of drywall?
Me: About one foot by 6 inches.
Dad: How did the hole get there?
Me: I…uh…punched a wall when Roethlisberger threw an interception.
Another sidebar conversation.
Guy Who Works at Jiffy Lube: Thank you. We’ll be in touch.