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Unfortunately, the good vibes would be short lived. Ends up a lot of the students were not as keen about your iconoclast personae as you were. Rather than changing your video game, you glommed onto a pair of likeminded outsiders: an extremely abundant Mexican called Ricardo and a fellow Chicagoan, Billy from the tough streets of Bridgeport.

Not remarkably, you loved college academics, taking to literature and viewpoint like a fish to water. Mathematics sucked but you d always hated that subject anyway.

Regardless of coming from the big city, you took pleasure in the smallness of the school along with the town. In Mt. Vernon there were only 2 bars, one for the trainees and the other for residents, primarily farmers who used their unclean tractor caps with pride. Having had adequate experience browsing dichotomies, it was easy sliding from one base to the other. In lots of ways, you preferred the regional environment, indulging in its credibility, developing a growing gratitude genuine ladies who worked for a living rather than the entitled ladies who didnt.

At the last minute you ended up accepting the only invite you d been lucky enough to get: from a miniscule liberal arts school in Mt. Vernon, Iowa. It had less students than your home had tenants. Students and teachers alike would be mesmerized by your creative soul. In Mt. Vernon there were only 2 bars, one for the trainees and the other for locals, primarily farmers who wore their unclean tractor caps with pride. Turns out many of the students were not as keen about your critic personalities as you were.

You composed sordid poetry, reveling in how it provoked your less advanced classmates. You were a provocateur, like Bukowski. Now here was a role you could relish.

Gotten to Cornell you securely believed it was the genuine you who showed up: the intellectual poet, able to fuck all night and drink and discuss it the next day. Professors and students alike would be mesmerized by your artistic soul. You d have a varied peer group, one that would appreciate you in all your complex magnificence.

At the last minute you ended up accepting the only invitation you d been lucky enough to get: from a small liberal arts school in Mt. Vernon, Iowa. It had less trainees than your home had occupants.

In your eyes, you were The Three Amigos! The Three Musketeers! Others unquestionably saw you as The Three Stooges. So what? As a trio, you reveled in the virtue of your minority status. Applying it to captivate the virtue of others. The Three Amigos created a makeshift gaming empire, taking bets on horse races tallied from the newspaper. Drunk and high, The Three Musketeers took a cars and truck in Iowa City and for great procedure rolled it straight into a pond in the center of school.

Clearly, you d overstayed your welcome.

You nearly pulled it off.

These acts endeared you to no one. A tiny campus, word spread fast that you d taken advantage of this bad lady. In your dorms restroom somebody made up unflattering graffiti about you, highlighted by an equally demeaning picture.

Next year, you would attend the University of Wisconsin in Madison, a far bigger, notoriously liberal, more edgy environment, where your kind, whatever that was, could flourish.

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