It was late morning, and the crew and I were at one of our biggest accounts — a large industrial complex on the outskirts of town. We were maintaining their courtyard and the landscaping that surrounded the perimeter.
Most of the guys were scurrying around with lawnmowers and weed-eaters. Stan, the newest member of the crew, was working alongside me in one of the planters near the entrance. Being the knowledgable professional with four months of seniority, I was teaching him how to deadhead flowers and pull weeds.
Stan stood up and stretched his back. “So,” he said, “I understand you went to college?”
“Yeah,” I said, as I continued to cut flowers.
Stan grinned. “Did you party a lot and get wasted?”
I paused, staring into space.
“Not really,” I said. “I mainly just kept my head down and worked hard. I wasn’t involved with any fraternities, so I didn’t get invited to a lot of parties.”
“Oh.” Stan kneeled down and started pruning. “I bet you scored with a lot of chicks, though. Right? Colleges are full of ripe young women.”
“Eh,” I said. “I was focused more on studying than I was on dating. I mainly spent my Friday and Saturday nights watching Pawn Stars reruns.”
Stan raised his eyebrows. “You didn’t play the field? That’s what college is all about, man! You’re supposed to make it with all the chicks you can. That’s why I always regretted that I never got to go.”
“At the time, I just wanted to graduate and get out,” I said. “I figured once I got established in a career, that’s when I’d hit the dating scene and play the field.”
“Oh,” Stan said.
We worked in silence for a moment. Finally, Stan asked, “So … how’s that working out for you?”
I stared into space again. “I mainly spend my Friday and Saturday nights watching Pawn Stars reruns.”