September. The days are sunny, the skies are clear and blue, and there’s a hint of “crisp” in the air. Yes, a touch of those cool faraway tendrils of winter which will eventually be upon us. Summer might be over, but the change in temperature and the smell of Autumn is worth it. I like September.
Then there are the drunk students.
Last week as I was coming home, I noticed a massive influx of them coming down my street. Frosh Week, of course. The week of dis-orientation for the drunken collegiate newbie.
“Just look at them”, I thought. Ahh, memories. The outings parties and carefree optimism of student life. “Let them have their fun”, I conceded. You’re only young once.
I went inside, closed the door, and dumped my bag on a chair.
What was that?
Is it just me or does that sound alot like a plastic garbage can being kicked.
I opened the front door and looked down the street in time to see six students casually kicking my empty garbage can down the sidewalk. For fun.
“Hey, what the fuck!”, I said as I caught up with them.
“Huh”, one of them shrugged.
I looked at them and gestured towards the bin.
They were all like, “Whatttt?”
I was all like, “Whyyyy?”
The tall one with the hair and the hat flicked his chin at me with a “Euhhhh…”
I addressed him directly with a, “Uhhhh!”
Two of them went “Pahhh..!”
“Gahhh!”, I said.
The garbage can shrugged indifferently.