Towards the end of our junior year of high school, military recruiters began calling. I had no interest in the structure the military offered, and after I turned him down a couple times, the guy left me alone. I’m not sure if they were true, but there were stories around the school of the recruiter calling every day for weeks on end if he spotted a weakness in your negative reply. When he called my friend Trevor, he went out of his way to make it clear that he was uninterested in enlisting. As soon as Trevor realized it was the recruiter, he said, “I’m gay, I do drugs, and I have flat feet.” Then he hung up and put it out of his mind. He told me the next day at lunch. There was no recourse except for a call to appear in the office, which Trevor ignored and instead went home.
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