|photo from a great article by SmartPlanet.com|
If you haven't read chapters one and two, I highly recommend it. Links below.
Did I mention I'm a college student? Yep. Sixth year senior. My parent's aren't exactly thrilled when they write a check each semester but I guess they assume it's a better option than allowing me to move back in. I'm working on my library science degree.
A quick way to a bloody lip would be to tell me my field of study will be obsolete before I graduate (I have temper issues). My father once said, Most fields will be obsolete before you graduate! What can I say? He's an ass.
Where was I before I digressed? Right....the whole 'I was wrong about everything.' bit. That seems to be a common theme in my life lately -being wrong. I prefer to think of my wrongness as life lessons.
Anyway, my 'friend' asked me to do him a favor before we parted ways and I, like the idiot I am, agreed. He said it was simple, would only take a few minutes and would help him (and humanity) out tremendously.
I pulled up to Planet Hills High School in my 1986 Chevy el Camino (shut up) and was greeted by several disgusted expressions as students exited the building and walked to their much nicer modes of transportation provided by Mommy and Daddy.
|Two words: Chick. Magnet.|
What brings me to Planet Hills High School -PHHS? I'm picking up Dr. Nano-bot's daughter. Yes, my world-saving act involves me playing taxi driver for a sixteen-year-old high school brat. If she looks anything like her father, I'm in for a harrowing experience. I can't imagine why anyone would willingly breed with that guy. I suppose he banks a good income but still, he's got the personality of a rubber band and the looks of a dumpster outside a diaper recycling plant.
The kids filed past in ever-shrinking groups until the parking lot was nearly empty, only a handful of students still lingering. One of them, a very tall, way too pretty girl was holding a phone up to her ear and eyeballing my car suspiciously while conversing someone on the other end. She slowly lowered the phone as her shoulders slumped with disappointment and I realized that she was the doctor's daughter.
As she moved closer to the car, my pathetically pathetic eyesight came into focus and I dismissed the idea completely. This girl was strikingly beautiful. There was no way Dr. Pharma-war is partially responsible for her existence.
I began throwing handfuls of fast food wrappers into the back seat in an attempt to at least give the appearance that I wasn't a total slob. She bent down, her long, dark hair draping over the half-lowered window (It's been stuck there for three months.).
"Are you Roland?" she asked.
"My friends call me Rol," I said in the bad-assiest tone I could muster.
She rolled her eyes and attempted to open the door. When it didn't give, she looked for the lock release. When she couldn't locate that, she reached inside and tried the lever. I sat motionless watching with a combination of embarrassment and entertainment as she grew more and more frustrated. Finally, she looked up at me with daggers in her eyes. I quickly got out of the car.
"Sorry. Door's stuck. You have to get in on my side."
With another roll of her eyes she stomped around the front of the car, shouldered me out of the way (Can you believe the nerve of this girl?) and slid across the front seat pushing whatever refuse I hadn't been able to toss into the back seat onto the floor. I could tell it was going to be a long car ride.
I couldn't have been more right.
The story continues...
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