FEATURED: k-tip
Carlos Malvar
Part I
“Bee, you can’t be serious,” my girlfriend says. She does that cute exasperated look that I like. I grin. “I can’t read this. This is crap. Crap that only your school can produce.”
I’m used to her jabs. “Just read it ok,” I take a sharp turn by the Mini-Stop on the corner. “There’s a killer epiphany in the end. Very Tony Perez. Modesty aside, it’s almost a Krip.” Two more blocks and I’ll have my girlfriend safely home. I see the derelict, beaten gates of Teachers Village residences and I die a little inside. Why does poverty have to exist?
“I don’t have to read your crap, because I already know how’s it going to end.”
“What’s up with you?” I ask. I check the date on my iPod. “It’s too early for you to be menstruating.”
“Oh, god. Not that card.”
“Hehehe.” I really laugh like that. He-he-he.
“You write crap, ok?” Then, she adds: “It’s not your fault, really. You come from a tradition of a paradigm so impractical it’s bound to implode on itself soon.”
I hit the brakes so suddenly the Business Ad books I have sitting on the backseat slides noisily on the floor. “Why do you have to go ad hominem on my ass?”
