It’s 10:09. We students awkwardly stare at the wall and pretend to drink from the water fountain as we wait for the college admissions officer from one of our “top” schools to arrive. I check my email to make sure it’s the right time.

Oh, here she comes! The admissions officer from Generic University saunters down the hallway towards the College Counseling Room, rolling her boxy, brochure-filled little suitcase behind her. Everyone pretends not to notice her until she is close to the door because you don’t want your first impression to be an unbearably long stare. When she’s near enough for us to strike, we attack. We put on our best, dazzling smile and clear our throats.

“Hi, Ms. Admissions Officer! How is your day so far?” we proclaim like it’s the best ten seconds of our lives. Well, I actually wish I was playing video games with my friends right now, but I definitely won’t get admitted if I’m not the first to welcome her to our beautiful school.

“I’m excellent, thank you so much!” she replies. She’s probably said that thousands of times by now. I wonder if she really wants to say “I’m exhausted because I’ve been flying all over this country for a month straight.” Then again, it’s her job to be cordial and pretend like college is the best thing ever.

We enter the College Counseling Room, the students jostling for the chance to courteously hold the door open for the admissions lady. She opens her little suitcase and takes out a couple fliers and those information cards. She hands them to us eager students, but she accidentally drops one on the ground. Immediately, every other student leaps from their chair to nobly assist her. “Oh, thank you so much!” she gushes with a sweet smile.

She starts her spiel about how her college is the best thing since sliced bread, how it was recognized as this and that, how it’s paradise on earth. It has 74 majors, 71 of which I don’t care about. I pretend to be absolutely intrigued by this cardstock brochure full of smiling students and pie charts.

“So, I’ve told you a little about our college, now what made you want to apply here?” she asks us. Our heads perk up and we quickly put on our best smile. One student (We’ll call him Sammy) looks around to see if anybody else wants to speak. After all, it wouldn’t be very nice for such a perfect, polite student to interrupt someone, would it? Sammy recites his answer like he’s reading off an invisible teleprompter.

“I have wanted to go to Generic University since I was in first grade,” he beams. (No he hasn’t.) “My parents have forced me to visit your beautiful park-like campus three times, and each time, I grow more enchanted with the academic achievement and friendly students at Generic University.”

I want to laugh because it feels like he copied the University’s home page onto the back of his eyelids and he’s reciting it word for word. “Every day, I am inspired by your motto, which I don’t even understand because it’s in Latin,” he continues. The admissions officer gives a toothy smile. The rest of the students give similar answers. 

Now, the admissions officer lectures us some more. “Did you know that 62% of our students study abroad? Did you know that our founder was some random old, white, rich dude? Did you know that some random singer visited campus a few months ago?”

All this time, the students’ smiles get bigger and bigger. It seems like Generic University is already the perfect fit!

Now is when the admissions officer talks about what makes this university unique. She starts to list one of the school’s traditions. It’s dumb, something like how on the last day of classes students throw a homemade pie in their favorite professor’s face. It’s supposed to be funny though, so we students oblige.

We all emit a lighthearted chuckle, and some of the theater kids act like it’s the most hilarious thing they’ve ever heard. Ha ha. College admissions officers don’t like to see grumpy, unresponsive faces. So we pretend it’s funny and show our beautiful smiles. Admissions officers love smiles more than anything else (except bribes), so students practice their perfect smile for hours before the visit. Oh yes, show us your beautiful, perfect, super white teeth. Come on, Sammy, show us that rehearsed saccharine smile. How cute! You look like your fourth grade yearbook picture. I can see all 28 teeth. Bonus points if you get dimples!

“Now I’ll talk about the admissions process. How many of you have already applied?”

We all raise our hands, even if we haven’t even heard of the college before this morning. Then it gets good. “We consider all parts of your application, and we also count family responsibilities as an extracurricular, etc.” Ooh, wait! Generic University has a holistic review process.

All the students vigorously nod their heads in approval and display another cute grin. We are so impressed that Generic University has a holistic review process because that’s what makes it unique. Oh wait, just kidding — every single college has a holistic review. That’s the first term in Merriam-Webster’s College Admissions Dictionary.

The admissions officer notices the clock. It’s 10:35. “Oh my!” she exclaims. “We’re almost out of time, so I’ll collect those cards you filled out so I can spam you with email. Does anyone have any questions for the last few minutes?” She acts like she’s genuinely heartbroken to leave such a qualified, excellent school and its perfect and unique students, but we all know she can’t wait to leave. No one has any questions. That’s suspicious.

No questions in public, that is. While half the students pack their bags and give a sappy thank you to the admissions lady, half stay behind, pretending to fumble with their things. Sammy has approached the admissions officer. He’s going for the jugular.

“Hi, Mrs. Admissions Officer. My name is Sammy Smith and I’m so thrilled you could visit us today!” Sammy is smart; getting on a first name basis with admissions officers is an effective strategy. He starts subtly listing his accomplishments. He asks a super specific question about some program the university has. It’s a good question, which means he probably didn’t come up with it. Clearly, the admissions lady is impressed. Maybe she makes a little star on his information card.

A few more students ask their private questions. Meanwhile, the rest of us walk down the hall towards the central stairwell. Tomorrow, half of the same perfect people will be back in the same place to show another admissions officer their cute, flawless smiles and exceptional qualifications.