Maybe the Navy

Recently, I got the idea that possibly, just maybe, it would be a good idea for me to join the Navy. Admittedly, I know little about life in the military, and I would be among the first to hightail it to Canada if the draft was ever reinstated (I've often said the only scenario in which I'd pick up a firearm for this country was if our shores were in eminent danger of invasion, and I use eminent in the oh-shit-they-are-off-the-coast-in-battleships way, not the threat-level-orange way). Let go from an absurdly idiosyncratic sales job in Boston that takes nearly as much energy to explain as it does to perform, and faced with the prospect of moving back home broke and unemployed (which seems to be the default state for any wide-eyed English major adverse to teaching and wholly incapable of the moral flexibility entry-level sales jobs require), I realized I had obtained for myself a decidedly ungrownup existence.

I ventured in all earnestness to Navy.com, took the online personality test and found I was considered, brace yourself, creative. The suggested Navy careers were limited. I could either become a combat photographer (no thank you, if I am in combat I want the thing in my hand to go BANG, not CLICK), or I could become a Public Affairs Officer. That I could do! I imagined myself in a plain room with wood paneling and crisp blinds (think Top Gun) editing a two-paragraph press release about jet fuel, doing the sort of menial, vaguely creative task reserved for English majors unafraid of getting yelled at and doing an inordinate amount of push-ups. I did more research about becoming a Public Affairs Officer and the training involved, and in all honestly, I was interested. Besides the duty-specific instruction given by the Navy, I would have the opportunity to earn my Masters in Communications at San Diego State while a Navy officer. Not too bad, I thought.

I was directed to call 1-800-USA-Navy and speak to a recruiter if I had more questions, which I did. The conversation went something like this:

Me: Hello, I have possible interest in becoming a Public Affairs Officer.

Navy Guy: Okay, do you have any experience doing that?

Me: Um, no. I took the online personality test and that type of job was suggested.

Navy Guy: No you have any hours in marketing or public relations?

Me: Not really.

Navy Guy: [incredulously] Well, you'll be rubbing elbows with heads of state, and you'll need that kind of experience.

Me: I didn't know that.

Navy Guy: [more incredulously] Yeah, usually people applying for that have tons of public affairs experience, like working in a congressman's office.

Me: Oh, I... wasn't aware.

Navy Guy: What's your degree in?

Me: English.

Navy Guy: Where'd you go to school?

Me: University of California at Santa Cruz.

Navy Guy: Ha, really?

Me: [stunned] Is that a problem?

Navy Guy: Well, it's like saying you went to Cal.

Me: Well... I don't have... I don't have a problem with the military.

Navy Guy: [something about hippies and protests].

Me: So... you're saying I need public affairs experience before I apply?

Navy Guy: Yes.

Me: Well, thanks for your time.

So, it was quite the experience. First off I was made to feel like an idiot for not knowing anything about being a Navy Public Affairs Officer, even though I was calling a fucking informational line which I was directed to contact with more questions. Secondly, the whole University of California thing is absurd. I can't believe the guy laughed at me over the phone when I said where I went to school, and then went on to imply that not only was UC Santa Cruz somehow defective, but so was UC Berkeley, which quite possibly is the most prestigious public university in the world. Needless to say, my interest in joining the Navy has passed.