Just Because I’m Asking You How Your Summer Was Doesn’t Mean I Give a Shit About You – Op Ed

Since I’ve come back to Hopkins, I’ve found myself in this situation too much. I’m just standing in line for food or to pick up a package or whatever, and then you – random friend of a friend or that kid I talked to once at a party – come up behind me and say hi. I haven’t seen you in 6 months, and honestly, I was hoping I would never have to see you again. But shit. Since you said hi, I now feel obligated to talk to you for the rest of the time we’re in line and the only question that comes to mind is “How was your summer?”

But before you go on and on about it, realize this: I don’t give a shit about you.

I don’t care if you spent the summer in DC lobbying for the oil industry. I don’t care if you spray-painted a dick on the Statue of Liberty. I don’t care if you started your own cult. I don’t even care if you married my mother and became my stepdad. Whatever you say after I ask you “How was your summer?” will be forgotten within the next 30 seconds because it wasn’t worth saying in the first place.

Sure, I’ll make eye contact and nod as you babble about how you think your volunteer experience will look good on your fucking med school application, but understand that you, as a person, are utterly insignificant. You’re even more worthless than my stepdad.

And once you’ve shut up, you’d better ask me about my summer. Show some fucking courtesy.

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