The Breakdown

Joel Pishman tapped his spoon against his water glass and the insane melodrama of the cafeteria quieted. He leaped up onto his chair, standing there with a certain indescribable panache. “Ladies and gentleman,” he began, “I just wanted to let you all know your friendly neighborhood literary magazine is sponsoring a campus-wide nervous breakdown in the Student Union tonight. You are all invited, encouraged, and—if necessary—are being told to come to the event. Thanks a bunch!”

He carefully stepped down from his perch and picked up his tray. He was so happy with himself that he couldn’t stand it. Joel Pishman had never announced anything in the cafe before. He had always been too shy and had one of his friends do it for him. But today, today Joel Pishman had become a man.

Well, not really. There was still the matter of the girl he liked but was afraid to ask out, and of course the story he had overdue for his Advanced Fiction class, and then he couldn’t forget about the literary magazine, of which he was co-chair. The magazine still didn’t have any submissions a whole two months into the semester. Yeah, his life sucked. It blew goats. It was a yawning chasm of pain.

But that was everybody else’s life nowadays. That was why Joel had organized this whole campus-wide breakdown in the first place, that and the fact that his organization was required to perform some act of community service during the semester. And what better service could he offer to the community?