Re: Boston College Eagles
Posted: Fri Jun 10, 2011 3:02 am
3:48 EST, Massachusetts
Stephen has poured himself a bowl of Honeycomb cereal. What a nutritious way to start the day.
Economics is boring. B-o-r-i-n-g. It is almost painful to have to sit here and read these chapters (for what will be the first and final time.) As long as I see at least a C-minus on my report card this semister, I don't even care what kind of grade I get on this silly exam.
"Hey ma, where is the Herald? Did the Sox win last night? They blocked ESPN.com at work."
"Here is your paper. I believe the Sox did win last night. And what are you doing going to sports websites while you are at work anyway? Do you want to get fired?"
"What the hell am I supposed to do at 2:00 AM if all the servers and the circuits are up and running? Surf the porn sites?"
"Cute. Very cute Steve. My shift at the hospital starts in an hour. You'll be leaving the house after I do. Your father is cooking for the girls tonight. Could you please pull the frozen spagetti sauce out of the freezer before you leave?"
"Sure."
"And pick up your sisters at the soccer field?"
"Ma, do I have to..."
"Yes you have to. I thought you liked all the attention you got from their friends when you went there."
"Having a bunch of googly-eyed, giggly, 15 year old girls in the back seat of my car, asking me if I would be willing to take them to see The Black Eyed Peas at Great Woods on Labour Day, is not the kind of attention that I crave right now."
"You are just like your father, so short-sighted. You know how much you mean to your sisters and their friends?"
"Yes."
"And you know in about 5 years, your sisters' friends are going to mean a whole lot more to you than they do right now."
(go ahead, just try it) "Great. In 5 years, I'll deflower them."
"Stephen shame on you! Sometimes I am just shocked with the kind of filth that comes out of your mouth."
(okay lets raise the bets) "Don't worry ma, I'm sure most of them have been deflowered already."
"I'm leaving for work right now. It is impossible to talk to you like an adult when you behave this way. Good luck on your test tonight."
"Thank you."
Let's see what is in the paper, turn to the editorial section? Howie Carr... okay so we have some more government hacks. Very good. Let me get my wallet out.
Steve at the rest of his cereal and drank the sugary milk. He then pulled a Tupperware container of homemade sauce from the deep freezer.
"Off to the field! I'll study there."
4:12 EST, Massachusetts
Stephen pulled into the parking lot at the Vo-Tech high school were he was in view of his two sisters practicing soccer with the rest of their team. This Saturday was the last game they had for the summer before the twins would be trying out for the varsity high school team this autumn. In Stephen's opinion they were both probably fast enough to make the team against the bigger and more experienced girls, but they were a bit gun shy. They seem to struggle when challenged on a one-on-one, and that drawback might get them stuck on JV for their sophmore year which would not be a tragedy.
He cracked open the book and started re-reading the last couple pages after he was so rudely interupted at home. He understood the concepts and what the author was trying to say. What he couldn't understand is why anyone would want to be an economist.
He put down the book and picked up the brochure for the QE2. Oh what a nice ship it was. 1969, bullshit. It had undergone 3 different multi-million dollar refits to bring it into the modern cruising world.
He looked at his watch. He had another 45 minutes before they finished practice and another 2 hours before his exam. He needed to run some more errands before the trip. So Stephen turned the ignition on and started to pull away from the curb when he wad to slam on the brakes with a thud.
Some moronic driver had pulled his car (seemingly out of nowhere) and parked it right smack behind Stephen's car, boxing him in. And he wasn't moving. And then this guy turned off the ignition. Great.
Stephen got out of his car and walked over to the driver side window of the other car. The car was an 1980-something beat up, rusted, Caprice Classic. The driver, 60ish, balding, dumb fucking white guy, made no effort to look at him coming over to his car. Stephen knocked on his window with a smile on his face.
"Excuse me, mister, I believe you've boxed me in here. I can't pull away with your car parked this way. Could you move it just a little bit please?"
Stephen could now see this driver much more clearly. He was wearing a Priest's uniform, the collar, everything. There was also a copy of the Good News Bible sitting beside him in the car. The Priest, still making no effort to turn his head in the direction of the driver side window, rolled down the window.
"It's sold out. I can't get on now. No room on board."
"Excuse me?" Stephen replied.
"All the cabins are sold. Even if I had a whole sack of money, they couldn't get me a cabin." The Priest then turned his head in the direction of Stephen and looked him square in the eye. "You're going to have to do this."
"Whoa. Uhhhh, what are you talking about.... father?"
"You can't let it off the ship. We don't want this on the continent. Promise me that you will take care of it."
"Take care of what? Have you been drinking? Are you on drugs? What on heaven are you talking about?"
"It is not of heaven my son." Calmly, the Priest moved his head closer to the window. "It's from someplace else, and you know what I am talking about."
Stephen started backing away from the car. This guy is bizzare. WTF!?!?!?! "I'm going to get back in my car now and close the door. Move your car or else I'll have to find a cop and have hi--"
"I'll be in New York City to take care of it if it gets to you first while you are on the ship." The Priest then stopped looking at Stephen, turned his head forward, turned on the ignition, and drove away. Stephen was able to take down the license plate number, Massachusetts plates, 389-BHN.
Forget my errands he thought. I am going straight to the police. How the hell does this guy know I'm going on a cruise and more importantly, who is he?
Stephen has poured himself a bowl of Honeycomb cereal. What a nutritious way to start the day.
Economics is boring. B-o-r-i-n-g. It is almost painful to have to sit here and read these chapters (for what will be the first and final time.) As long as I see at least a C-minus on my report card this semister, I don't even care what kind of grade I get on this silly exam.
"Hey ma, where is the Herald? Did the Sox win last night? They blocked ESPN.com at work."
"Here is your paper. I believe the Sox did win last night. And what are you doing going to sports websites while you are at work anyway? Do you want to get fired?"
"What the hell am I supposed to do at 2:00 AM if all the servers and the circuits are up and running? Surf the porn sites?"
"Cute. Very cute Steve. My shift at the hospital starts in an hour. You'll be leaving the house after I do. Your father is cooking for the girls tonight. Could you please pull the frozen spagetti sauce out of the freezer before you leave?"
"Sure."
"And pick up your sisters at the soccer field?"
"Ma, do I have to..."
"Yes you have to. I thought you liked all the attention you got from their friends when you went there."
"Having a bunch of googly-eyed, giggly, 15 year old girls in the back seat of my car, asking me if I would be willing to take them to see The Black Eyed Peas at Great Woods on Labour Day, is not the kind of attention that I crave right now."
"You are just like your father, so short-sighted. You know how much you mean to your sisters and their friends?"
"Yes."
"And you know in about 5 years, your sisters' friends are going to mean a whole lot more to you than they do right now."
(go ahead, just try it) "Great. In 5 years, I'll deflower them."
"Stephen shame on you! Sometimes I am just shocked with the kind of filth that comes out of your mouth."
(okay lets raise the bets) "Don't worry ma, I'm sure most of them have been deflowered already."
"I'm leaving for work right now. It is impossible to talk to you like an adult when you behave this way. Good luck on your test tonight."
"Thank you."
Let's see what is in the paper, turn to the editorial section? Howie Carr... okay so we have some more government hacks. Very good. Let me get my wallet out.
Steve at the rest of his cereal and drank the sugary milk. He then pulled a Tupperware container of homemade sauce from the deep freezer.
"Off to the field! I'll study there."
4:12 EST, Massachusetts
Stephen pulled into the parking lot at the Vo-Tech high school were he was in view of his two sisters practicing soccer with the rest of their team. This Saturday was the last game they had for the summer before the twins would be trying out for the varsity high school team this autumn. In Stephen's opinion they were both probably fast enough to make the team against the bigger and more experienced girls, but they were a bit gun shy. They seem to struggle when challenged on a one-on-one, and that drawback might get them stuck on JV for their sophmore year which would not be a tragedy.
He cracked open the book and started re-reading the last couple pages after he was so rudely interupted at home. He understood the concepts and what the author was trying to say. What he couldn't understand is why anyone would want to be an economist.
He put down the book and picked up the brochure for the QE2. Oh what a nice ship it was. 1969, bullshit. It had undergone 3 different multi-million dollar refits to bring it into the modern cruising world.
He looked at his watch. He had another 45 minutes before they finished practice and another 2 hours before his exam. He needed to run some more errands before the trip. So Stephen turned the ignition on and started to pull away from the curb when he wad to slam on the brakes with a thud.
Some moronic driver had pulled his car (seemingly out of nowhere) and parked it right smack behind Stephen's car, boxing him in. And he wasn't moving. And then this guy turned off the ignition. Great.
Stephen got out of his car and walked over to the driver side window of the other car. The car was an 1980-something beat up, rusted, Caprice Classic. The driver, 60ish, balding, dumb fucking white guy, made no effort to look at him coming over to his car. Stephen knocked on his window with a smile on his face.
"Excuse me, mister, I believe you've boxed me in here. I can't pull away with your car parked this way. Could you move it just a little bit please?"
Stephen could now see this driver much more clearly. He was wearing a Priest's uniform, the collar, everything. There was also a copy of the Good News Bible sitting beside him in the car. The Priest, still making no effort to turn his head in the direction of the driver side window, rolled down the window.
"It's sold out. I can't get on now. No room on board."
"Excuse me?" Stephen replied.
"All the cabins are sold. Even if I had a whole sack of money, they couldn't get me a cabin." The Priest then turned his head in the direction of Stephen and looked him square in the eye. "You're going to have to do this."
"Whoa. Uhhhh, what are you talking about.... father?"
"You can't let it off the ship. We don't want this on the continent. Promise me that you will take care of it."
"Take care of what? Have you been drinking? Are you on drugs? What on heaven are you talking about?"
"It is not of heaven my son." Calmly, the Priest moved his head closer to the window. "It's from someplace else, and you know what I am talking about."
Stephen started backing away from the car. This guy is bizzare. WTF!?!?!?! "I'm going to get back in my car now and close the door. Move your car or else I'll have to find a cop and have hi--"
"I'll be in New York City to take care of it if it gets to you first while you are on the ship." The Priest then stopped looking at Stephen, turned his head forward, turned on the ignition, and drove away. Stephen was able to take down the license plate number, Massachusetts plates, 389-BHN.
Forget my errands he thought. I am going straight to the police. How the hell does this guy know I'm going on a cruise and more importantly, who is he?
