“Hey,
sure, come in and sit down. Sorry the office is such a mess. So…what schools
are you deciding between?”
“It’s
down to UT and Chicago. I just came from Chicago,
so I’m down here checking things out.”
“Well,
I can tell that our weather beats the crap out of theirs. I don’t know about
you, but I’d come to Texas just to get away from the cold.”
“Oh,
the cold isn’t really a problem for me. I lived in Siberia for a year.”
“Where?
You mean, like, Montana or something?”
“No,
I mean I actually lived in Siberia. Russia. Studying
geology.”
“Oh,
Wow. Well, I guess the cold wouldn’t be a problem then. But Texas is still the only place to be. You
know, I was looking at Michigan for awhile, but I just couldn’t bear to go to a place with crappy Mexican food.”
“I
hate Mexican food. I’m from Utah.”
“I
see. Well, I guess someone has to be from there, right? Ha!”
“What
else do you think UT has to recommend itself? I mean, up at Chicago they told me that I could have my
pick of jobs, even if I graduate in the bottom quarter of the class, and that
at UT I’d never have those kind of options.”
“Wow—Jack,
is it?—I don’t really know what to say to that. I mean, though I’m sure it
sounded nicer when they said it, they’re pretty much right. It’s a lot easier
to be on the bottom at Chicagothan it is at Texas. But we have one
thing they don’t have.”
“What’s
that?”
“Thousands
of hot Texas undergrads. I swear, Jack—“
“It’s
Zack.”
“Uh-huh.
You have no idea just how many of them they are. They all come out in the fall
and think that they’re supposed to dress up and—“
“Actually,
I’m married.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah,
which was another reason that Chicago appealed to me. Lots of married people.”
“Well,
hey, I’m married, too, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t appreciate—“
“Is
the Mormon church fairly big around here?”
“Sorry?”
"The Mormon church. I’m LDS. I’m looking for a strong Mormon community.”
“Oh!
Oh sure, actually we have quite a few—FUCKING COCKKNOCKING FUCKERS!!!”
“I-I—Excuse
me?”
“YOU
FUCKING SONS OF BITCHES! WHO STOLE MY JOLLY RANCHERS?”
“Your—like…the
candy?”
“Yes, the goddam candy! I used my own
money and bought a five pound bag of Jolly Ranchers for my office, and put them
in this jar.”
“I
don’t—what’s the problem? It seems full to me.”
“Are
you fucking blind, Johnny Utah? Everybody
knows that I only like three flavors, so I picked those out and put them in
this jar here. Then, out of the goodness of my heart, I put the Grape and Blue
Raspberry back into the bag and put that bag out in the lounge so that everyone
else could have them. But you’ll notice that, somehow, this jar now contains only Grape and Blue Raspberry. Some
soulless jerkwad raped my Jolly Rancher
Jar!”
“And
you think they put the Cherry and Apple and Watermelon back in the bag and took
it out into the lounge?”
“Well,
probably—wait a minute. Wait a goddam minute. How could you know that the ones they stole were Cherry, Apple, and
Watermelon?”
“It’s
pretty obvious. There are only five flavors to begin with, and—“
“You
couldn’t, that is, unless YOU were the one who STOLE THEM!”
“What?
Me? This is ridiculous!”
“Ridiculous?
You steal MY candy and call ME ridiculous? I’ll have your goddam head for this!”
“I
think I’m going to leave now.”
“Go
ahead! Leave, you thieving communist! Run to Chicago. You can’t hide from me! I WILL find
you! Justice will be done!”
“I’m
out of here. You’re insane.”
“I
Will Have My Retribution! A Pox Upon YOU! BLOOD! BLOOD! I WILL HAVE IT! I WILL HAVE IT!!!!”
“…”
“Alrighty
then. I'd say that went pretty well.”