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=   F.U.C.K. - Fucked Up College Kids - Born Jan. 24th, 1993 - F.U.C.K.   =
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                            Day in the Life
                            ---------------

So it was this sunny day, right, the kind that sort of gets inside your outer
layer of clothing, and I'm down at Sixteenth and Tremont about four o'clock,
having given up trying to interface with some contacts for the day.

I'm sitting on this bench, smoking a cigarette, watching the people, pretty
average shit, when I see this gone cat, around seventy or seventy-five, sort
of hovers around for about three seconds like he wants to say something.
He's got this combination grey suit/Hawaii man gig going on, which makes
him look alot like William Burroughs, and finally he walks around from my
back to my left.

'Want to go have a drink with me?'

Mhm.  I've played this game before.

'Where at?'

'My place.  Capitol Hill.'

'Ah, no, I've got a ride coming.'

So I figure the next thing he's going to ask me is, 'Want to make some money?'

'Want to make some money?'

People.  They're all the same.

'What kind of money?'

'You can make twenty bucks.  I'll give you a blow job.'

'Ah'... I put some thought into it.  I've got a good deal of fag in me, and,
well, nothing to do, really.

'Come on.  I'll give you a blow job.'

This cat wants to pay *me* twenty bucks to suck on *my* dick.

'Nah, sorry, I'm not really up for that type of gig right now.'

'Too bad.', and this cat walks off just like he came.

There's a reason to write about this, however, and that's because I've put
some thought into it.  This is being written on the night following this day,
by the way. See, this was the third time I've been propositioned, which is
a fairly common occurance for some people, but I'm the type that still lives
at home, goes to school, etc.

Besides, I watched some television tonight.  I don't do that very often.  But
because of this goddamned judgmental society, I have some concerns about
'retaining my humanity' and the worries of others.

Another point of consideration is that this guy was cooler than the other two
guys.  He seemed weary and without anticipation, which is probably what made
me think of Burroughs, in addition to the suit.  I didn't even give
consideration to the other two, but this cat made me think.

There's a moral to this story, and that moral revolves around the fact that
people are still people.  They can't go out and kill each other.  The
citizens who would never be propositioned to, much less accept a proposition,
and the guys who pull tricks every night have to learn about these polemics.
This analogy can be applied to all aspects and members of society, not only
those with a certain illegality about them.

Live between the lines and avoid urges to control or create stereotypes that
have no compassion in them.  Communication and love are very potent qualities
that keep you alive.  Don't forget it.

-rb.


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