The Few, Proud, Wasted Eighteen Minutes

A couple of years ago, the Marines branch at school called to touch base with me. I talked to Sergeant Something that day for about a half-hour; he said 'man' at least fifty times: "Listen man, I just wanna know if you'd be interested in the Marines, man..." I got it right away- down-to-earth Sarge knows how to speak to the youth; the Marines have nothing to do with boot camp or military combat, and we're just two dudes being real with each other, man. He said to me, "We're not looking to shave your head and make you do push-ups or nothing, huh huh, we just want you to come by the office and talk for a while," which seems a bit counterproductive to a recruitment call, being a shaved head and push-ups are two constants in Marine life. I said I was busy for the next few weeks and gave him my cell phone number for a follow-up call. He called ten times over the next month or so. I never answered.
A few days ago, I was talking with my sister about something, maybe getting a job after college, and I said, "At least the Marines stopped calling." I was wrong. The phone rang this morning; I heard my mother answer and say Hold on. I was the only other person in the house- as she came down the hallway, I was hoping she thought my father or brother was home, that it was anybody else's call. But she came into my room, handed me the phone, and answered my questioning expression, "I think it's a teacher." It was Sergeant Something Else, though. He wanted to talk to me about maybe joining the Reserves. Tons of opportunities, he said. We're not trying to shave your head or make you do push-ups or anything...
Now I have ten more calls to ignore.