((Rob Jenkins continued from dz/dt I was absent for almost two months, so I'll do a little time skip. I hope no one will castrate me with a rusty spoon for it))
He did it. He fucking did it...
Yeah, sure, C minus is still far from a 'good grade status', especially if someone spent a lot of time to learn the material, but Rob never really aimed here for a top grade. He just wanted to say 'Fuck You' to Mr. Kwong in a more subtle way. And oh boy, he really did it. Kwong's face look was absolutely priceless so much, that Master Card should put it in their next ad.
The time for celebration was short, however. He lost too much time, he could spend on a training, for the studies. The Draft will be in June, and if Rob seriously thought about playing in NBA (and he did), he had to practice practice, and even more practice.
But first, Rob needed to wake up for real. He was studying till the late hours in the night, and he had to wake up earlier to be in the class on time. The remaining concentration and power went away with every problem he had to solve on the board just a few minutes ago.
Huge yawn has left Rob's mouth as he entered the empty cafeteria. Or almost empty, Rob didn't notice. To be honest, he was so sleepy, he probably wouldn't notice even a giant pink elephant standing in the middle of the basketball court. The only thing he saw, was the coffee vending machine. Rob searched his pockets for a cash, and took some small silver coins.
"Damn, I'm so poor. Those rumors about high NBA salaries better be true, or I'm completely fucked."
He sighed, as he put the coins into the machine to buy himself the cheapest coffee available. Before he sat in a chair, he took two small sips.
"Blgrh... What an awful taste... At least it works just fine."
Rob shook his head. The world was finally getting some shapes and colors. Now in a lot better condition (well, not exactly... They say that drinking coffee before practice is terrible for your health, but one cup won't kill a man, no?) Rob sat, took out the local newspaper, he bought on his way to school, and opened it on a sport column...
Keep your head down
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Yossarian*
- Posts: 182
- Joined: Sun Sep 02, 2018 4:35 am
Don't look at them. Don't make eye contact
Holding his tray aloft, Dominic McKenzie shuffled across the Cafetorium, his eyes glued to the floor. There had been a time when he would have been eagerly glancing around for companionship, a like-minded solitary type he could be himself around, hold a decent conversation with.
It's ok, it's ok, it's fine, they aren't looking at you.
That time had long since passed.
Empty table, empty table, yes. Sit in the corner. Don't look, don't look.
The smell of reheated lasagna seemed to curdle before it reached Dominic's nostrils. He wouldn't have thought it possible, but someone somewhere had actually managed to make a sheet of pasta look unappetising. It had to be deliberate.
Even the food is demoralising. I'm in a Soviet Gulag aren't I? That is what's happened. Someone's about to tap me on the shoulder and announce that my continued existence no longer aligns with the best interests of the state and I'll be shot in the face behind the language building.
Dominic parked himself in the corner seat of one of the corner tables. Out of the way. He unwrapped his plastic cutlery with a heavy sense of resignation and propped a translation of Beowulf open against the lip of his tray.
Maybe Beowulf had the right idea. Maybe I should start pulling people's arms off. At least I'd be distinctive. I'd probably get a cool nickname. 'Armless Dom. Dismemberment McKenzie.
He sighed and began reading. The squawks and yelps of other students enjoying themselves hammered against his ears, a discordant cacophany without rhyme or rhythm, rendering it near impossible to concentrate. He furrowed his brow at the words, squatting on the page like lethargic ants.
Then it was like old times in the echoing hall, proud talk and the people happy, loud and excited;
Oh great. Even literature was having fun.
until soon enough Halfdane's heir had to be away to his night's rest. He realized that the demon was going to descend on the hall, that he had plotted all day, from dawn-light until darkness gathered again over the world and stealthy night shapes came stealing forth and...
Dominic sighed and closed the book. He really didn't need any demon-related apocalypses, thanks all the same. He began digging into his bland lasagna, occasionally throwing wistful glances towards the throng of carefree, laughing students.
Holding his tray aloft, Dominic McKenzie shuffled across the Cafetorium, his eyes glued to the floor. There had been a time when he would have been eagerly glancing around for companionship, a like-minded solitary type he could be himself around, hold a decent conversation with.
It's ok, it's ok, it's fine, they aren't looking at you.
That time had long since passed.
Empty table, empty table, yes. Sit in the corner. Don't look, don't look.
The smell of reheated lasagna seemed to curdle before it reached Dominic's nostrils. He wouldn't have thought it possible, but someone somewhere had actually managed to make a sheet of pasta look unappetising. It had to be deliberate.
Even the food is demoralising. I'm in a Soviet Gulag aren't I? That is what's happened. Someone's about to tap me on the shoulder and announce that my continued existence no longer aligns with the best interests of the state and I'll be shot in the face behind the language building.
Dominic parked himself in the corner seat of one of the corner tables. Out of the way. He unwrapped his plastic cutlery with a heavy sense of resignation and propped a translation of Beowulf open against the lip of his tray.
Maybe Beowulf had the right idea. Maybe I should start pulling people's arms off. At least I'd be distinctive. I'd probably get a cool nickname. 'Armless Dom. Dismemberment McKenzie.
He sighed and began reading. The squawks and yelps of other students enjoying themselves hammered against his ears, a discordant cacophany without rhyme or rhythm, rendering it near impossible to concentrate. He furrowed his brow at the words, squatting on the page like lethargic ants.
Then it was like old times in the echoing hall, proud talk and the people happy, loud and excited;
Oh great. Even literature was having fun.
until soon enough Halfdane's heir had to be away to his night's rest. He realized that the demon was going to descend on the hall, that he had plotted all day, from dawn-light until darkness gathered again over the world and stealthy night shapes came stealing forth and...
Dominic sighed and closed the book. He really didn't need any demon-related apocalypses, thanks all the same. He began digging into his bland lasagna, occasionally throwing wistful glances towards the throng of carefree, laughing students.
((Jessie Anderson continued from Three Bar))
Oh bummer, this is what I get for turning up late - place is crowded. Free table, free table, free - hey, that one is pretty much empty, let's take a look.
Jessie was running a little behind schedule on that day, mostly because she had stayed behind in one of her earlier periods to help clean up the classroom. It hadn't been anything too drastic (just a desk or two to wipe off), but those extra two minutes or so had quite the effect when it came to finding seats in the cafetorium. Still, it didn't strike Jessie as something to start crying about, and indeed it seemed as if on this occasion that she was in luck.
Jessie manoeuvred her way through the crowd without much difficulty - she found that people tended to give somebody her size a bit of space - and plonked her tray down on the mostly empty table. Jessie gave the boy sitting there a friendly smile... she recognised him - he was in her grade, but a name wasn't forthcoming. D... it began with a D she thought, but it would probably be best not to mangle the guy's name in front of him.
"Hi there! This place isn't taken right?" Jessie hovered there for a few seconds - it clearly wasn't, but she was trying to be polite. Offence could come from the unlikeliest of quarters.
Oh bummer, this is what I get for turning up late - place is crowded. Free table, free table, free - hey, that one is pretty much empty, let's take a look.
Jessie was running a little behind schedule on that day, mostly because she had stayed behind in one of her earlier periods to help clean up the classroom. It hadn't been anything too drastic (just a desk or two to wipe off), but those extra two minutes or so had quite the effect when it came to finding seats in the cafetorium. Still, it didn't strike Jessie as something to start crying about, and indeed it seemed as if on this occasion that she was in luck.
Jessie manoeuvred her way through the crowd without much difficulty - she found that people tended to give somebody her size a bit of space - and plonked her tray down on the mostly empty table. Jessie gave the boy sitting there a friendly smile... she recognised him - he was in her grade, but a name wasn't forthcoming. D... it began with a D she thought, but it would probably be best not to mangle the guy's name in front of him.
"Hi there! This place isn't taken right?" Jessie hovered there for a few seconds - it clearly wasn't, but she was trying to be polite. Offence could come from the unlikeliest of quarters.
"Hi there! This place isn't taken right?"
There was a pause. And then another one. And another. Pauses began stacking on top of one another at an increasingly alarming rate, the silence growing ever more corpulent by the second.
Dominic stared, his mouth full of half-chewed lasagna.
Say something you twat.
"Umm... no no, go for it".
Well that was worth the wait. Thank you Captain Stutter. No don't smile for God's sake, you know it makes you look like a sex offender.
Dominic mutely returned to his lasagna, head down and eyes on the table. This was how bad it had gotten. Even the most basic interaction was making him freeze up like a mini-milk. He used to at least be able to talk to the girls but it seemed that too was now eluding him.
Christ. God only knows what'll happen if a pretty boy tries to sit here, you'll probably shit yourself lifeless.
Dominic sighed and stirred the bland mess around his plate. Suddenly he wasn't that hungry.
There was a pause. And then another one. And another. Pauses began stacking on top of one another at an increasingly alarming rate, the silence growing ever more corpulent by the second.
Dominic stared, his mouth full of half-chewed lasagna.
Say something you twat.
"Umm... no no, go for it".
Well that was worth the wait. Thank you Captain Stutter. No don't smile for God's sake, you know it makes you look like a sex offender.
Dominic mutely returned to his lasagna, head down and eyes on the table. This was how bad it had gotten. Even the most basic interaction was making him freeze up like a mini-milk. He used to at least be able to talk to the girls but it seemed that too was now eluding him.
Christ. God only knows what'll happen if a pretty boy tries to sit here, you'll probably shit yourself lifeless.
Dominic sighed and stirred the bland mess around his plate. Suddenly he wasn't that hungry.
((Dominic Hoffman, Somewhat Continued from Toys in The Attic))
Crawl from the wreckage one more time
"Ah, Shit, Everywhere's full." Dominic was running late, as usual. He'd stopped off to finish some homework for one of the few lessons he didn't hate and picked up his MP3 player, and now the Cafetorium was almost completely full.
Horrific memory twists the mind
Carrying the tray holding what he assumed was some kind of meat, mashed potatos, and baked beans, Dom scouted out good spots to sit.
Dark, rugged, cold and hard to turn
Path Of Destruction, feel it burn!
Dom paused it there, as there wasn't really much point listening to music in the cafetorium, it was already almost being drowned out by the excitable sounds of the people eating.
Pretty Far in front of him, Dom could see a fairly empty table, with only a few people sitting there. He made his way over, and took his headphones out of his ears and shoved the mp3 in his Jeans back pocket.
While he was walking to the Table, a girl Dom vaguely knew as Jessie something-or-other went to sit down near someone, who Dom knew he'd probably know better if he didn't have his back turned.
"Oh, Sorry Man." Dom said, nearly walking into someone coming the other way "Wasn't paying attention."
Dominic stood at the end of the table, and sighed.
"Really Sorry about this, but It doesn't look like there's space anywhere else. Do you guys mind if I sit here?"
Crawl from the wreckage one more time
"Ah, Shit, Everywhere's full." Dominic was running late, as usual. He'd stopped off to finish some homework for one of the few lessons he didn't hate and picked up his MP3 player, and now the Cafetorium was almost completely full.
Horrific memory twists the mind
Carrying the tray holding what he assumed was some kind of meat, mashed potatos, and baked beans, Dom scouted out good spots to sit.
Dark, rugged, cold and hard to turn
Path Of Destruction, feel it burn!
Dom paused it there, as there wasn't really much point listening to music in the cafetorium, it was already almost being drowned out by the excitable sounds of the people eating.
Pretty Far in front of him, Dom could see a fairly empty table, with only a few people sitting there. He made his way over, and took his headphones out of his ears and shoved the mp3 in his Jeans back pocket.
While he was walking to the Table, a girl Dom vaguely knew as Jessie something-or-other went to sit down near someone, who Dom knew he'd probably know better if he didn't have his back turned.
"Oh, Sorry Man." Dom said, nearly walking into someone coming the other way "Wasn't paying attention."
Dominic stood at the end of the table, and sighed.
"Really Sorry about this, but It doesn't look like there's space anywhere else. Do you guys mind if I sit here?"
Jessie sat down, giving what she hoped came across as an ecouraging smile. This ... Darren? guy was clearly a shy one, which was a bit of a shame. People had to talk, otherwise they just got lonlier and lonlier... maybe Jessie could give him a hand with that. Yeah, that'd be the good thing to do.
"What's up with you then? Got any good classes coming up?" It didn't matter if it didn't work - the important thing was that Jessie had given it a try. It wasn't nice to see somebody moping around, and even if it didn't do the slightest bit of good... well, wasn't it the thought that counted?
Jessie looked around as she heard somebody speak, and smiled as she saw Dominic Hoffman. He was a little bit on the cynical side, it was true, but everyone had their flaws, and he could be pretty funny on occasion. Not anybody that Jessie couldn't handle, although that category was very small indeed. Except when she lost her temper...
"Go right ahead," Jessie told him. "It isn't as if space is at a premium here."
"What's up with you then? Got any good classes coming up?" It didn't matter if it didn't work - the important thing was that Jessie had given it a try. It wasn't nice to see somebody moping around, and even if it didn't do the slightest bit of good... well, wasn't it the thought that counted?
Jessie looked around as she heard somebody speak, and smiled as she saw Dominic Hoffman. He was a little bit on the cynical side, it was true, but everyone had their flaws, and he could be pretty funny on occasion. Not anybody that Jessie couldn't handle, although that category was very small indeed. Except when she lost her temper...
"Go right ahead," Jessie told him. "It isn't as if space is at a premium here."
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Yossarian*
- Posts: 182
- Joined: Sun Sep 02, 2018 4:35 am
ROSE VS BEASLEY - FIGHT FOR THE TOP SPOT
This year Draft may be the most interesting since 2004, when it was unknown till the last day, whether Dwight Howard or Emeka Okafor would be the first pick. University of Memphis, Derrick Rose is currently being considered 2008's number 1, but only an inch before Michael Beasley from Kansas State University, while O.J. Mayo (USC), Russell Westbrook and Kevin Love (both UCLA) are taking the next three spots. During the last training camp... "Hi there! This place isn't taken right?" ...While Beasley certainly did... "Umm... no no, go for it." ...His amazing skills under the basket can be a major reason, Minnesota Timberwolves (so far the worst record in the league) may choose him over... "What's up with you then? Got any good classes coming up?" ...On the other hand, the players like Mayo or Westbrook... "Oh, Sorry Man. Wasn't paying attention" ...In the shadow of the Rose/Beasley case, the other young players are trying to make a good impression on scouts... "Really Sorry about this, but It doesn't look like there's space anywhere else. Do you guys mind if I sit here?" ...the guards, D.J. Augustin or Eric Gordon, forwards like Joe Alexander or even centers like Brook Lopez are definitely... "Go right ahead. It isn't as if space is at a premium here." ...May be crucial in the later parts of the season.Finally, since 2004, when Kris Humphries (currently Toronto) was drafted with number 14 by Utah, Minnesota has a player with good chances to shine in league. Robert Jenkins (Bayview Secondary School, removed from graduation last year to be eligible in 2008 Draft), Power Forward, star of the Bayview basket team, while certainly not given as much attention as the players from the first ten of the Rookie ranking, is still considered by scouts to be a 'valuable player' for every team interested in him. According to recent Mock Drafts, Jenkins is placed with 16th spot for Philadelphia 76ers, who are in desperate need for a good forward, to help Andre Iguadola with...
Rob was a master of ignoring his surrounding while reading, especially, when the local newspapers were mentioning him. 16th spot. Despite his hidden feeling of regret, that he's not as much talented as those other 15 players, Rob was proud of himself. For someone who was training almost all his life, to reach this one goal, a steady place in first round of the draft was almost like a dream coming true. Now if he'll only maintain his skills level (or heck, even make them even better), and if there will be no random catastrophes along the way, the NBA will welcome him with open arms. There was only one little drop of bitterness to ruin his good humor. Literally, because this drop was placed in the cup of his so called 'coffee'. So far he wasn't complaining, since it helped him to kill the sleepiness, but now as he took another sip, he felt really awful taste in his mouth.
"Fuck, what is this shit?"
Rob looked with disgust at the cup. Then he realized, that he said it aloud.
Dammit...
And he wasn't alone at the table.
Dammit twice...
Jessie Anderson and... Uhmm... 2 other guys, completely unrecognizable for Rob, were sitting nearby, probably taking advantage of an empty space around him. And now they probably saw him as a completely dumb jock, who cannot knot two sentences without throwing several 'fucks' in there. Rob fought with this stereotype as much as he could, but right now, he wasn't helping the case.
Damn, say something you idiot, unless you want to stay as an imbecile to them.
"Well... Uhmm... No, seriously guys... Don't drink this coffee from the vending machine. It tastes awful. It musts some kind of a Satan's work to torment the living, or something...."
"And stuff..."
Those last words were only silently muttered under his nose. In his head however, Rob was cursing himself for being a complete idiot, and NOT being a smooth talker.
"What's up with you then? Got any good classes coming up?"
Dominic visibly jumped. He hadn't been expecting follow-up conversation. No-one made follow-up conversation with him. He coughed as he tried to reply through a mouthful of lasagna. He swallowed and tried again.
"Um, no. Just French. You know, je deteste... French".
It was probably for the best that he was interrupted.
"Really Sorry about this, but It doesn't look like there's space anywhere else. Do you guys mind if I sit here?"
"Go right ahead, it isn't as if space is at a premium here."
Dominic sank lower into his seat. Another person. A guy. Kind of cute. Not good not good. He stared into his plate, feeling himself visibly reddening.
"Fuck, what is this shit?"
"Well... Uhmm... No, seriously guys... Don't drink this coffee from the vending machine. It tastes awful. It musts some kind of a Satan's work to torment the living, or something...."
"And stuff..."
That tore it. He could feel conversations opening up around him, spreading their leathery little wings, enveloping him, suffocating him. He knew what was going to happen. Jokes, laughter. Chatter about going out later, about the party this Saturday, about fake I.D.s, drinking, laughing, boys, girls, like oh my god, and I was like fuck you and your tiny dick, who needs him anyway, why's that faggot got lasagna on his chin, what, what, you wanna hang out later, mrs ward can suck my cock, got track practice don't have any time see you in shop class who's fucking dirty cup ithinkilike himbestfriendnoyou haveitidontevenwantitillfindoutlatergojumpoffabridge
Don't need this. Don't want this.
But he couldn't leave. He couldn't abandon a nearly full plate. They'd know. They'd know he was leaving because he couldn't handle being around them. They'd whisper as he left. The whispers would follow him, they'd ring in his ears, a mess of indistinct sibilants that stung like a slap on the balls.
Wait it out. Finish eating. Get out.
Dominic kept his eyes on his food, shoveling it into his mouth without grace or restraint. He had to clean the plate, then he'd be able to leave legitimately. That was all that mattered. Clean the plate.
He kept his head down.
Dominic visibly jumped. He hadn't been expecting follow-up conversation. No-one made follow-up conversation with him. He coughed as he tried to reply through a mouthful of lasagna. He swallowed and tried again.
"Um, no. Just French. You know, je deteste... French".
It was probably for the best that he was interrupted.
"Really Sorry about this, but It doesn't look like there's space anywhere else. Do you guys mind if I sit here?"
"Go right ahead, it isn't as if space is at a premium here."
Dominic sank lower into his seat. Another person. A guy. Kind of cute. Not good not good. He stared into his plate, feeling himself visibly reddening.
"Fuck, what is this shit?"
"Well... Uhmm... No, seriously guys... Don't drink this coffee from the vending machine. It tastes awful. It musts some kind of a Satan's work to torment the living, or something...."
"And stuff..."
That tore it. He could feel conversations opening up around him, spreading their leathery little wings, enveloping him, suffocating him. He knew what was going to happen. Jokes, laughter. Chatter about going out later, about the party this Saturday, about fake I.D.s, drinking, laughing, boys, girls, like oh my god, and I was like fuck you and your tiny dick, who needs him anyway, why's that faggot got lasagna on his chin, what, what, you wanna hang out later, mrs ward can suck my cock, got track practice don't have any time see you in shop class who's fucking dirty cup ithinkilike himbestfriendnoyou haveitidontevenwantitillfindoutlatergojumpoffabridge
Don't need this. Don't want this.
But he couldn't leave. He couldn't abandon a nearly full plate. They'd know. They'd know he was leaving because he couldn't handle being around them. They'd whisper as he left. The whispers would follow him, they'd ring in his ears, a mess of indistinct sibilants that stung like a slap on the balls.
Wait it out. Finish eating. Get out.
Dominic kept his eyes on his food, shoveling it into his mouth without grace or restraint. He had to clean the plate, then he'd be able to leave legitimately. That was all that mattered. Clean the plate.
He kept his head down.
A particular aspect of Jessie's schedule suddenly smacked her in the face, as she remembered something else she'd planned to do in that lunchtime. A bit of hockey practice.
"Oh man..." she muttered. "I need a planner or something," Jessie turned to the shy person sitting next to her and gave him another smile. "Well, good luck with your French, sounds like it'll be tricky. I've gotta run, so see you around!"
Jessie stood up, grabbed one last bite from her meal then dashed off, leaving it unfinished. Sometimes, sacrifices had to be made to avoid letting people down. On this occasion, that meant her lunch...
((Continued in Motown Never Sounded So Good))
"Oh man..." she muttered. "I need a planner or something," Jessie turned to the shy person sitting next to her and gave him another smile. "Well, good luck with your French, sounds like it'll be tricky. I've gotta run, so see you around!"
Jessie stood up, grabbed one last bite from her meal then dashed off, leaving it unfinished. Sometimes, sacrifices had to be made to avoid letting people down. On this occasion, that meant her lunch...
((Continued in Motown Never Sounded So Good))
"Fuck, what is this shit?"
In his haste to find a table, Dominic had completely forgot to acknowledge the fairly big guy sitting there, reading the paper and drinking coffee, and from the reaction, Bad coffee at that.
"Heh, I'm not a big fan of the vending machine coffee, either." Dom replied, turning his head to him. "Shit looks like it's been in there for months."
After Eating some of the beef on his plate, which wasn't nearly as bad as the coffee. Dom Looked over to the shy kid, who was looking seriously spaced out.
Woah, is he tripping or something? Shit, I seriously can't remember his name
"Hey, are you okay?" He said, looking at least slightly worried.
While Dom was waiting for a reply from the stoned kid blankly staring into space, Jessie left the table, leaving her plate.
I guess someone else'll have to clean that up, then.
Dom got back to eating his meal, even if he was the only one on the table to be doing so.
In his haste to find a table, Dominic had completely forgot to acknowledge the fairly big guy sitting there, reading the paper and drinking coffee, and from the reaction, Bad coffee at that.
"Heh, I'm not a big fan of the vending machine coffee, either." Dom replied, turning his head to him. "Shit looks like it's been in there for months."
After Eating some of the beef on his plate, which wasn't nearly as bad as the coffee. Dom Looked over to the shy kid, who was looking seriously spaced out.
Woah, is he tripping or something? Shit, I seriously can't remember his name
"Hey, are you okay?" He said, looking at least slightly worried.
While Dom was waiting for a reply from the stoned kid blankly staring into space, Jessie left the table, leaving her plate.
I guess someone else'll have to clean that up, then.
Dom got back to eating his meal, even if he was the only one on the table to be doing so.
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Yossarian*
- Posts: 182
- Joined: Sun Sep 02, 2018 4:35 am
Now, some wild guessing... I scared her off, with my idiocy, or does she really has something important to do? Damn... Rob, you idiot...
At least the other guy (whoever he was, Rob decided to call him 'Other 1') followed up with the conversation... before the 'other' other guy (let's say 'Other 2') began spacing out... Or something... Actually Rob didn't really know, what was going around anymore.
"Hey, are you okay?"
Rob replied almost immediately, and automatically.
"Leave him be. If he's still breathing, he doesn't need any help. Some people just need to shut themselves to rethink something, or really whatever..."
He wasn't really sure, if Other 1 even listened to him. Probably he did, because he left Other 2 alone, and returned to his meal. Following his example, Rob went back to reading newspaper, but not before throwing away the cup with this infernal thing, that calls itself 'coffee'.
Despite his own words however, Rob was still gazing at Other 2 from time to time, between next articles. This guy was acting really weird, and for some unknown reason it bothered Rob.
Damn... He looks like he IS gonna stop breathing in a moment...
At least the other guy (whoever he was, Rob decided to call him 'Other 1') followed up with the conversation... before the 'other' other guy (let's say 'Other 2') began spacing out... Or something... Actually Rob didn't really know, what was going around anymore.
"Hey, are you okay?"
Rob replied almost immediately, and automatically.
"Leave him be. If he's still breathing, he doesn't need any help. Some people just need to shut themselves to rethink something, or really whatever..."
He wasn't really sure, if Other 1 even listened to him. Probably he did, because he left Other 2 alone, and returned to his meal. Following his example, Rob went back to reading newspaper, but not before throwing away the cup with this infernal thing, that calls itself 'coffee'.
Despite his own words however, Rob was still gazing at Other 2 from time to time, between next articles. This guy was acting really weird, and for some unknown reason it bothered Rob.
Damn... He looks like he IS gonna stop breathing in a moment...
"Hey, are you okay?"
"Leave him be. If he's still breathing, he doesn't need any help. Some people just need to shut themselves to rethink something, or really whatever..."
People answering for him. Dominic wished that could happen more often. It actually made things a whole lot simpler. He idly wondered whether there was some way of training an animal to do the whole conversation thing for him. Y'know, blind people get guide dogs, retarded people like you who fail at basic human interaction should have... parrots or something. Just train it to say "no thank you" and "mocha frappuccino please" and you'd be set.
Though it would probably poo all over my shoulder.
How hard can it be to get a diaper on a parrot?
'Diaper'?! Christ, I've gone native. Well that's just fantastic, isn't it.
Dominic's typically tangential thought processes were brought to a screeching halt as he realised one of the others on the table was intermittently staring at him.
Ohgodohgodohgod... what is it? What do you WANT?
Dominic snuck a glance at the other and his stomach clenched as they made eye contact and he realised he'd have to say something. He attempted a smile,
"Hi... Can I help you?"
Oh. Great. Apparently you work at Burger King now.
"Leave him be. If he's still breathing, he doesn't need any help. Some people just need to shut themselves to rethink something, or really whatever..."
People answering for him. Dominic wished that could happen more often. It actually made things a whole lot simpler. He idly wondered whether there was some way of training an animal to do the whole conversation thing for him. Y'know, blind people get guide dogs, retarded people like you who fail at basic human interaction should have... parrots or something. Just train it to say "no thank you" and "mocha frappuccino please" and you'd be set.
Though it would probably poo all over my shoulder.
How hard can it be to get a diaper on a parrot?
'Diaper'?! Christ, I've gone native. Well that's just fantastic, isn't it.
Dominic's typically tangential thought processes were brought to a screeching halt as he realised one of the others on the table was intermittently staring at him.
Ohgodohgodohgod... what is it? What do you WANT?
Dominic snuck a glance at the other and his stomach clenched as they made eye contact and he realised he'd have to say something. He attempted a smile,
"Hi... Can I help you?"
Oh. Great. Apparently you work at Burger King now.
"Leave him be. If he's still breathing, he doesn't need any help. Some people just need to shut themselves to rethink something, or really whatever..."
"Yeah, Sure." Dom had already retreated back into eating, and what the newspaper reading guy had said made sense. "I was just checking if he was okay."
The newspaper reading guy discarded his coffee and carried on reading, occasionally stealing glances at the stoned guy. Dominic thought he was probably worried or something. Dom looked away for a second and checked for his mp3 player in his back pocket...
"Hi... Can I help you?"
...So it seemed that the stoned guy was back among the living.
"Oh, Hey. I'll have a Big Mac, a Coke, Some Nachos, Fries, and..." Dom laughed a bit at his own, admittedly terrible, joke. "Anyway, I was just kind of worried, you looked really friggin' weird for a second there"
As Dominic ate another mouthful of beef and mashed potato, it suddenly hit him with the glittering realisation that the conversation wasn't directed at him.
"Yeah, Sure." Dom had already retreated back into eating, and what the newspaper reading guy had said made sense. "I was just checking if he was okay."
The newspaper reading guy discarded his coffee and carried on reading, occasionally stealing glances at the stoned guy. Dominic thought he was probably worried or something. Dom looked away for a second and checked for his mp3 player in his back pocket...
"Hi... Can I help you?"
...So it seemed that the stoned guy was back among the living.
"Oh, Hey. I'll have a Big Mac, a Coke, Some Nachos, Fries, and..." Dom laughed a bit at his own, admittedly terrible, joke. "Anyway, I was just kind of worried, you looked really friggin' weird for a second there"
As Dominic ate another mouthful of beef and mashed potato, it suddenly hit him with the glittering realisation that the conversation wasn't directed at him.
((Yossarian just posted an indefinite hiatus so I guess we'll move this along))
"Oh, Hey. I'll have a Big Mac, a Coke, Some Nachos, Fries, and... Anyway, I was just kind of worried, you looked really friggin' weird for a second there"
Dominic winced internally.
Of course you did. You don't have any other looks.
"Oh, I mean, um, thanks. Thank you. I'd better, uh, better go".
Smooth. No, really.
There was a time when Dominic would have been kicking himself for not starting a conversation, not interacting on a basic human level like any normal high schooler. That time had passed. He'd given up being angry at himself. Solemn, bitter resignation was much easier on his migraines. His plate finally clean of lasagna, Dominic jumped up and grabbed his tray. He looked at the floor, feeling himself redden as he mumbled something unintelligible.
"'Kay, bye".
Nice.
((Dominic McKenzie continued in Tranquility))
"Oh, Hey. I'll have a Big Mac, a Coke, Some Nachos, Fries, and... Anyway, I was just kind of worried, you looked really friggin' weird for a second there"
Dominic winced internally.
Of course you did. You don't have any other looks.
"Oh, I mean, um, thanks. Thank you. I'd better, uh, better go".
Smooth. No, really.
There was a time when Dominic would have been kicking himself for not starting a conversation, not interacting on a basic human level like any normal high schooler. That time had passed. He'd given up being angry at himself. Solemn, bitter resignation was much easier on his migraines. His plate finally clean of lasagna, Dominic jumped up and grabbed his tray. He looked at the floor, feeling himself redden as he mumbled something unintelligible.
"'Kay, bye".
Nice.
((Dominic McKenzie continued in Tranquility))
"Oh, I mean, um, thanks. Thank you. I'd better, uh, better go".
"Okay" Dom turned his head after finishing the last of the mash potato and moving onto the beef. "Don't let me me keep you"
What the stoner replied as he jumped up and left, stooped over and red in the face, wasn't as intelligable, but Dom was sure he made out "'Kay, bye" in there somewhere.
What is that kid smoking? Dom thought, clearing the last of his plate 'Cause I fucking want some.
Dom smirked to himself at the old, often repeated injoke, and left the cafetorium to go somewhere that would be infinitly more interesting.
((Dom Hoffman, continued in The Importance of Being Idle))
"Okay" Dom turned his head after finishing the last of the mash potato and moving onto the beef. "Don't let me me keep you"
What the stoner replied as he jumped up and left, stooped over and red in the face, wasn't as intelligable, but Dom was sure he made out "'Kay, bye" in there somewhere.
What is that kid smoking? Dom thought, clearing the last of his plate 'Cause I fucking want some.
Dom smirked to himself at the old, often repeated injoke, and left the cafetorium to go somewhere that would be infinitly more interesting.
((Dom Hoffman, continued in The Importance of Being Idle))