Business office line. I think the chairs might be for Financial Aid. Jesus Christ, there are a lot of people in line. Has to be Financial Aid. I wonder if I could get financial aid? I don't really need it, but it'd be nice. Like a sign that the system cares about me. Chairs definitely not business office line. Fuck. Stand here.
Three people in line.
Does that lady have a mullet? Does that lady have a bald spot in her mullet?
Oh God, fucking loud kids. In goes the earphones. Wait, turn it down, you are going to want to hear this.
-You should do it.
Response is quick rocking from foot to foot in place. Guy rocking, guy being encouraged, is dressed in all black, black toboggan, scraggly rapist hair peeking out underneath. Bit of a pubic hair patch under his chin. Catch eyes, definitely vacant.
-Come on, man.
Encourager is squat, maybe 5'9". Red hair. Matches the horrible plague of acne on his cheeks. Goes to some red facial hair, like a desperate attempt to cover the sores on his face. Book bag over shoulder, dressed nice enough. Thumb up volume. That lady in line for financial aid is cute. Probably has a fucking litter of pups. All these girls have kids. Volume down.
-It's all nacho cheese, man. Come on. It's just--
Black guy is rocking back and forth more vigorously, like his whole body is engaged in a masturbatory act, mumbling the occasional affirmative grunt.
-Just a tub of nacho cheese. A big bag of--
Is acne man comparing some girl that Pube Beard is going to fuck to a tub of nacho cheese? How, most probably, poetically apt.
-Come on, man. She was totally into you.
-She was too into me.
Again, probably true. Jesus Christ, what the fuck is mullet woman doing up there?
-You should go for it. She was cute and fun.
Cute and fun? I wonder what their standards of cute and fun are? God, to think of these fuckers passing a character evaluation on any female, especially one that they deem a giant tub of nacho cheese. And he's selling his buddy on this girl's fuckability on her seeming innocuousness.
-Why don't you go for it?
Pube Beard foists the nacho cheese off on Acne.
-She's....
Acne puts his head down, they are at the window. Attendant's gone. Acne arms on ledge, head down, mumbling.
-She's too cute for me.
Sadness!
-She's into anybody. You should do it.
Whore!
-She's...I'm being realistic. She's too cute...
-She called me tiger. Who says tiger nowadays?
Who says nowadays nowadays?
-Really?
-Mary Jane.
-Tiger, dude.
-Mary Jane says tiger.
-And not the one you can smoke.
-Yeah.
-Mary Jane Mary Jane.
The conversation is getting dumb enough that I'm losing thread.
-I'm trying to be, you know I'm trying to be abstinent.
Acne's abstinence is choice, not circumstance. Huzzah! Ego has reformed in a flash. God's chosen soldier, cock-hymen in place, marching forward to encourage drunken fucking of others, surrogate orgasms all around!
-You want me to fail.
Music back up. Brain taken in all it can. Still fucking texting. "How is baby you cok up mac nd cheez be home soon luv u" Definite hardening of lines from meth. Long conversation of meal plan with homoerotic undertones with Acne and Pube Beard.
Spring Semester, Day 1.
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