KILROY: Being in the outside world

People say our campus is an urban campus – integrated with the downtown area a few blocks east of it. People also say that because of this integration, students are constantly reminded that life extends outside of campus.

However, I believe in the BU Bubble. After weeks of massaging reading-induced neck cramps, I had forgotten that there was life outside of BU. Not everyone is a college kid or cares that you’re a college kid with limited sleep and reading-induced neck cramps – life’s bigger than you, you little BU student.

This weekend I really got hit with the “reality stick.” After the T screeched to a halt inside Kenmore Station Friday morning, I climbed aboard and was immediately engulfed by a sea of suits and briefcases. For the first time in a long time, I, Meaghan Kilroy, was part of the morning rush.

I suddenly felt ignorant (or arrogant, depending on how you look at it); I had forgotten that the morning rush existed and how my time on the T might be extended because of it. I was living inside the BU Bubble.

The rest of that morning’s events spoke to how much the BU Bubble had consumed me.

At Haymarket, I got off the T and proceeded in the direction of the Edward Brooke Courthouse – I should probably tell you now that I was not appearing in court, but was meeting my journalism class for a “show and tell” of sorts.

Now that I’ve cleared my name, allow me to get back to describing how ignorant I’ve become.

So, as I was walking up to the courthouse, a fellow student told me that a friend of hers was once kicked out of court for wearing a dress court officials deemed “too short.” I looked down at my own dress that fell a few inches above my knees. Oops. When did I forget that what’s appropriate for campus might not be appropriate for court? Insert ignorant assumption that campus life is the same as real life here.

Moving on, our reporting assignment for that morning was to obtain a copy of a court document from the clerk’s office – easier said than done. Despite 20 years of living, I had been ignorant of the fact that the “DMV attitude” carried over to another institution – a courthouse’s clerk’s office.

Allow me to reflect: I remember the hour before I obtained my driving permit, not because I was excited to reach a new milestone, but because my dad and his “these are the people that work at the DMV” talk had scared the shit out of me.

My dad had decided the 20-minute car ride to the DMV was the right time to inform me of the sort of environment the DMV upheld – cold and full of over-inflated egos. I understand his reasoning for holding onto this information until we were in a moving vehicle – it was too late for me make a break for it, and the lack of space prevented me from contorting myself into a hysterical, quivering ball. All I could do was sit there and whimper quietly – which I did.

Disclaimer: Not everyone at the DMV makes simple tasks (like obtaining a driving permit) insufferable – just everyone I’ve ever met.

So as our professor gave us the “these are the people that work in the clerk’s office” rundown, I sat there reprimanding myself for forgetting that places like that existed – Why can’t everyone be like the cheery Myles security guards?

After our professor completed “the talk,” it was time to go to battle.

Upon walking into the clerk’s office, our group got the “stank face” from one of the female employees (the “stank face” is a facial expression one makes after seeing “what the cat dragged in”). I couldn’t decide if it was because we were a bunch of kids or whether her face was actually stuck like that. Anyway, we were off to a bad start.

However, a moment of relief came when an old, grey clerk called, “Next.” A classmate and I immediately ran over to him – anything to get away from that lady.

Everything was going swimmingly until he said, “So you guys are working on the case, right?”

Not wanting to dig myself into a hole, I uttered, “No. We’re journalism students on assignment. These documents are public record.”

I saw a flash of the man’s stank face. Shit.

What happened next, however, was amazing. The man went over and retrieved the documents. He even made two copies – one for each of us!

Boy, we were lucky. I could tell from the amount of bitching and moaning on our right and left that our classmates didn’t fare as well – that’s too bad.

So Friday morning was a real wake up call. It reminded me that life exists outside of BU, and that all of the education in the world cannot ensure me that people will treat me nicely or give me what I need.

With final exams and papers approaching, let us not forget that it’s not just the repertoire of facts we know; part of getting through life is being able to talk to people. The real world is a thing! And it’s coming for you.

Meaghan Kilroy is a sophomore in the College of Communication and a weekly columnist for The Daily Free Press. She can be reached at  kilroymeg@hotmail.com.