July 8, 2009


“I have class in an hour, and I haven’t done the work that I needed to do. I need to type”


“I haven’t looked at it.”

“Come on, John, you can get your game in.”

My roommate kept goading me to play on the Playstation. People from Jersey have no respect for school.

“Skip the class, it’s just English. I know you’re not failing that class. I always see you doing the reading, or writing something when you’re all drunk.”

“That’s your fault, Glenn, you made me the alcoholic I am today.”

“Hey, don’t go blamin’ me for that. I never MADE you drink.”

“True, true, but you made it accessible. It’s too easy anymore. But I do have to get my work done”

“What do you have to do?”

“I don’t know, let me look,” I said as I shuffled through my disorganized papers. “It says to write about a conversation between two people who come from different backgrounds.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Age, nationality, gender, region of the country, you know, things of that sort.”

“Fuck that man, you’re up on the game.”

“No, I gotta do this. I already missed class once, and hell, I did the reading. I didn’t torture myself with Hemingway on my own accord.”

“What you going ta write about?”

“I don’t know man, but I’ll figure something out, I always do. How different would you say that Chicago and Jersey are?”

“Different enough, I’d say”

“Well, here’s hoping.”