"The Last Time I Ate Fast Food" by Hunter Vega

What does getting a quick bite to eat say about your beliefs, political alignment, and code of ethics? Hopefully, not much. But more and more, as suspect business practices are exposed and controversial views are publicized, we need to take a look at where we stand in our involvement with different companies. The other day, as I was walking in the mall with my brother, I seriously considered this dilemma. I casually suggested we stop at Chick-Fil-A for some fries and a lemonade; he immediately shut me down, citing the news of the owner’s denouncement of gay marriage, a story that had circulated a couple years back. To be honest, I had forgotten about that and I’d eaten there repeatedly during those years. He had decided to boycott the restaurant chain entirely, but I was less convinced.

Did my choice really hold any weight? Could I really affect the owner I wanted to hurt? I didn’t see how someone not buying a chicken sandwich could at all combat homophobia. I was doubtful that my purchasing behavior would take a toll on already wildly rich and successful man. On top of that, wouldn’t impact on the business first reach employees at a lower paygrade? What if, in trying to take down a homophobic corporation we cause the unemployment of a gay person who is already disrespected and ostracized by their place of work? This got me thinking about how useless consumer activism can sometimes feel.

I had already experienced this feeling of futility. When I heard Nestle had been bottling water in California in their time of drought, I decided to attempt a boycott of their products. It went well, until I realized that their dog food, kitchen equipment, and bullion cubes were already sitting in my house. This just repeated itself a month or so down the road, when I heard that Unilever was dumping waste in the water supply of poorer areas in India. I tried to stop my use of this company, until I learned how much I relied on their products every day. I finally found that these boycotts were unrealistic. Yes, most big corporations have methods I would never agree with. Still, I’m sure that is the case with most of the businesses I buy from every day. Who am I to tamper with industry?

I didn’t have an answer for my issues with all these groups, but I did have an answer for my brother. We didn’t go to eat at Chic-Fil-A then, and I haven't eaten there since. I decided that buying-behavior activism is all in perspective. I may not be doing much to the corporation, but I can’t expect to. If I choose to not eat at a restaurant, I’m making that decision based off of my personal opinion on the owner, not because I expect to make change. And that’s okay with me. I’ll do my part, and when people ask, I’ll tell them: if it’s difficult to stomach, let it go.

"A Deadly Flaw," by Hunter Vega

One of humanity’s most delicate conventions is vanity. In fact, this is a vicious flaw present in many people. In such people, it is far too easy to destroy something that may have spent years in the making. This trait is a terrible weakness. Unfortunately, it’s all too common, especially in this day and age. In fact, the powerful weakness of vanity can be shockingly impactful today.

The current social climate is often thought of as an incubator for people’s natural self-congratulatory nature. This ties into the misconception of a common culture of vanity. There’s also an idea of social media providing every individual with a soapbox that they never had before. This may be true, but the platforms people stand on are in no way as stable as they are made out to be. The nature of these soapboxes are such that they may tumble at any jab.

This is, of course, all based on generalizations. It does not ring true for all people, nor are all people susceptible to failure based on vanity. The fact is, however, that this is a common occurrence in many, particularly young people. It is a dangerous, exploitable chink in an armor that should protect a person. Additionally, this is to say that the generation of young people entrenched in this culture is not an army of vapid, mindless morons watching ourselves through our phone cameras. Nor are we a volatile, fragile mass of unstable personalities. There is range, and there are exceptions and inclusions with people of all ages and groups.

Thinking back to the idea of social platforms, it is important to note that in some cases, they serve as extra “padding” on the armor, not the exploitation. In fact, the power of social media, selfie culture, and millennials’ fixations is in strengthening self- image. All the facets of our society commonly criticized for encouraging vanity actually encourage morale in people who may have problems in the area. An important part of building up that morale in the first place is in celebration of one’s own image.

There’s so much talk surrounding the presence of vanity in modern society. There are also many observations on the fragility of this personality trait, as the way it’s viewed is so negative. It’s even thought of as a deadly sin. In fact, vanity plays such a prolific role in many people’s lives that their sense of pride may be harmed when their vanity is attacked. It is also true that the condition of our culture plays a large part in the way we view ourselves. The digital age we live in makes it possible for us to access a wider audience, but also to process information faster. A fixation on the individual may be a product of a vain society, but a fixation with the culture in which the individual shines is a symptom of a certainly self-absorbed species.

"A Counselor's Worst Ghost Story" by Hunter Vega

        "Do you know how many times I've covered for you? Would it kill you to return the favor even once?"

       "You covered for me once! And my sister was sick! You just want to leave!"

       "I told you this morning, Meg. It's important that I see him. It's just one extra hour of work." There’s a warning in his tone, but I ignore it.

       "But I don't even know any scary stories! And-" I lower my voice, "I can't take care of the kids on my own."

       "Well, you're in the wrong line of work, then," he snaps. "Listen, if you're not up to it, quit. But all you have to do is recycle the plot from a horror movie and get the kids to bed. I'm guessing I'll hear you whine about it in the morning."

        He turns and storms off, and I know I've screwed up. I don't know why every conversation with Michael has to end in a fight. I can't pretend it's not my fault, though. I’ll make it up to him. I won’t even say anything tomorrow. I’m already feeling guilty about it. He’s got other people to deal with, and I’m just adding to his problems. I always do this, and he’s right to be annoyed. I’ll apologize when he gets back. Still, I should hold him accountable for the things he’s said. I would confront him if I didn’t agree with him.

       I walk back to the campfire like my shoes are lead. He was right, of course, about me being in the wrong line of work. But it was camp counseling. Anybody who cleared a background check could do it. Obviously, it didn’t require a very solid work ethic.

       The kids are looking kind of antsy. Some are bored, the sweeter ones are edging on concerned. I guess it’s not an enriching environment that has its employees bickering in earshot of children. Thank god the kids aren’t here to learn. I take my place on the log bench behind the fire that had been, until now, unsupervised. Shift into further discomfort and let an awkward silence settle. After a few seconds, I clear my throat.

       “So. I’m going to take over tonight, so-”

       “Why was Michael mad at you?” It’s one of the more obnoxious kids, cutting in as soon as he can. I employ one of my favorite child-care techniques and ignore him.

       “I’m telling the story tonight. Um, Once upon a time,” I hear groans. “Once upon a time, there was a man who was conflicted. Tormented. This was because… he had a really pleasing attitude, but only to some people.”

       “So he kissed people’s butts!” It was the seven year old heckler again, making the other kids giggle. I go with it, because it’s accurate.

       “Yeah, he… kissed people’s butts. All the time. But only to get their respect and validation, and he wasn’t going to get that from those people.” This story really wasn’t for kids. I jump, then sigh at the sudden sound of Michael’s car door slamming.

       “This man... he was generally pretty great, but when he worked too hard to please certain people, and they ignored him, he took it out on his friends, who just wanted to help.”

       I realize it’s getting way too real when I check the kids’ faces. Even the upstart who had been interrupting me looked worried. Well, I am scaring them. I decide to go for something spooky, rather than terrifying them with real life.

       “Well, the man went on making bad decisions until one night, when he was driving too fast.” I can see Michael’s headlights jumping as he swerves around a turn on the mountain road. Please be careful, I think. Don’t do anything stupid. “And that night, on the road, he died! His car crashed!” Even as I say the words, I’m praying that Michael is safe. It registers I’m not scaring only myself as I notice the kids turning to watch the beams coming from Michael’s car, the only sign of him now. “He… he came back to haunt the people he wanted to impress in life.” My voice is shaking now, as Michael approaches the last switchback turn of the mountain. “This… is the story of-”

       A screaming, moaning crash shatters the quiet, and I can’t even call his name as he dies.