Ranting - Oct .99
by:  Dolomite

 

     It has been an interesting week here at college. I have no cable. Why, you may ask? Because it costs forty fucking dollars plus an additional five dollar installation fee, that's why! Oh wresting, porn, Baywatch, movie channels, porn… how I miss you. But I must be strong, for I am a college man. And a sober one at that! That's right, the Almighty Dolomite has vowed to either give up drinking or masturbating (unless persuaded to do so by an attractive coed). I figured, hey I tried to give up masturbating before, and that didn't work*. Why fail to do so again? So I figured instead of alcohol, I'll just double my pop, coffee, and water intake. If I want to throw up, I'll start drinking V8 mixed with Tabasco sauce. My newfound sobriety has lead me to a stunning conclusion: this college is like a minimum-security prison. Think of it. In college, enough is provided to keep you bored, but not actively bored. The actively bored riot. The lazily bored just bitch, moan, and nap. Boredom in college is much like corruption in government, it always finds its way into the system.

     This boredom caused me to look out of the window one day, in the sad attempt to see what may be a cheerleading practice. There I saw two rows of six people jogging in unison, more or less. Beside them was a security guard, looking on with mild interest. I looked at the clock. 4:30 pm. Hmm… must be exercise hour in that yard. However, it was also dinnertime for this young freshman. So I left and thought nothing of the exercising people.
     While in line, I noticed that one of the guys trying to leave had something in his pants pocket sticking out a little. It was a spoon! A security guard nearby (these guys are everywhere) also noticed and tackled this kid on the spot. The guard asked for his ID. He said he didn't have any; he just paid the three dollars for the meal. The kid was then slammed against the wall, and told to spread his appendages. The guard patted him down, and came up with the stolen spoon. The kid was told to turn around. His mouth was checked, for other stuff I guess. The he was told to turn around again. I saw the guard take out a latex glove, and start to back away Memories of past instances started to come back to me as I heard the guard order the guy to drop his pants. I was almost out of the door, but I was too late. I did not get far enough away to avoid the sound of this student's scream as the guard probed for additional stolen goods.

     I went back an hour later, toward the end of the meal hour. I managed to get in without incident. The meal was horrendous. The soup (Chef's choice) resembled imitation gruel. The taco reminded me of public school food. And the soft drinks were "temporarily disabled", the coffee was out, and the milk was warm and thick. I couldn't stand it anymore. I had to get away form this cafeteria. So I went for a walk to clear my mind and work of the few morsels I managed to eat.
     Upon my walk, I passed the main gates, which were closed. I saw other students looking at these same gates. They had the same forlorn look upon their faces, that of loneliness. I began to wonder what was truly out there. There was a CVS drugstore and an Arby's about two blocks east of the campus. There's a Value Home Center about five blocks to the west To the south, only the campus. To the north, only houses. If one had a getaway car, there was freedom in the city. However, no freshmen were allowed to have cars. It was the law of the university. Next year we are able to have a car. And even if we don't, we still have to pay a $70 parking fee, so that they can eventually build more parking spaces.

     As I walked back to my non-air-conditioned dorm room, I realized that I am trapped here at college. I am a prisoner of this lifestyle. I am a prisoner of this college. I am a prisoner of my bad habits I am a prisoner of this shirt! No joke, I am. It is a new and 100% untreated cotton. On my way to my room, I was splashed by an exploding washer. Someone thought that they could fit two loads of clothes, and a shitload of detergent, into the small washer on my floor. As I passed it, it was already past the point of no return. I was too much into my thoughts of imprisonment when I saw the great surge of suds coming my way. Drenched and blinded by soapy suds, I staggered into the nearest open door. It was the communal shower room. I slipped on the already wet floor and reached for the nearest object to hold onto to stop my fall. I grabbed a shower nozzle and turned the nearest shower on full blast. I was scorched alive by water that was already boiling when it left the showerhead. Within seconds of this torture, my shirt began its rapid shrinking. When I finally got out of the shower room, my shirt was roughly a medium size. I bought it as an XXXL! So please, if you don't know how to do laundry, have someone supervise you. And even if you do know how to do it, don't overload. It affects everyone in fiendish ways.

Dolomite