Haunted by the Marines

When I took the PSAT test in October, I filled in a bubble saying that I wanted the College Board to send my scores to colleges and summer programs and other such things. I did not realize what I was getting myself into. Starting in February, I have been bombarded with letters and advertisements from all kinds of colleges--famous and obscure. They all claimed to be one of the best colleges in the country, all had vibrant campuses and unparalleled facilities (I don't see how every college can be the best, so I realize that many of them are probably lying). I have also received many invitations to summer programs, and it is from this that I found out about the Columbia one which I will attend this summer. For the most part, the college-notification thing was useful. But in life, we always have trade-offs. In my case, I am now haunted by the Marines.

Yes, among the invitations and letters, I found an invitation to join the Marines. They advertised themselves as "The Few, The Proud" and offered to send free Marine gear. Upon seeing this, I joked that maybe the free Marine gear was my uniform; yes, it would be free, but then I would have no choice but to join the Marines. Being a Marine not exactly being one of my ambitions, I put the advertisement aside, mildly amused. Little did I know how desperate the Marines were to recruit me.

A few weeks later, I received another similar join-the-Marines advertisement, as if they thought I hadn't gotten the first one and needed a new copy. Next, they sent me the official Marines Corp magazine, Hooah (no, I did not forget to put an "r" in the middle, it was actually called "hooah"). Another time, I received an American flag in the mail, with the join-the-Marines message. It was peer pressure; if you want to be patriotic, you have to join the Marines. Suddenly, Marines recruitment advertisements were everywhere. When I went to see Iron Man last weekend, the coming attractions were interrupted by a Marines recruitment advertisement, with soldiers wearing spiffy uniforms, spinning fancy guns like batons. So today, when my father came to me sneakily with a card in his hand, quoting my aunt when she used to chase me around the swimming pool scaring me with a floatable toy duck, "I looooove you, Philip. I want to eeeaaaat you Philip" (that toy duck was once found destroyed at the side of the swimming pool. I leave it to you to wonder why) I knew that it was the Marines. And sure enough, it was: Marines required summer reading. I'm haunted!

-Philip