Loans and Elevators

Today was a day like any other. Nothing too disturbing, nothing too fantastic, nothing too vigorous. That is, apart from signing my soul over to the devil.
And by that I mean I signed my college loans for my sophomore year.
Walking to that Financial Aid office was the longest walk in my life. Each step brought me closer to the impending doom of a brobdingnagian loan that will hang over my head for (cross your fingers, please) the 10 years that I am given in which to pay the consequences. The consequences of coming to Brown.
I entered the mocking door into that building. Up elevator one floor, then two. (What are stairs?) Crossed the threshold of destiny, and spoke those words that I will remember for the rest of my life...

"I'm here to sign my Stafford Loans."

A stack of papers, towering over my head. Quivering pen in hand, dry mouth, moist eyes, trembling. Read, add references, sign. Read, add references, sign. With aching hand, and beating heart, I was done. I passed them over, and I tell you I could hear the air conditioning hissing...sold, sold, sold. A smiling response:

"You're all set"

All set indeed.