My backpack weighs a ton. I don't even know why I continue to do this to myself.
I haven't been eating, I've been unable to work out and I have no haircut.
It's all on account of these books in my bag.
It's the week after Fall Break and I've hit the wall.
I'm struggling to walk to Davis Library in the rain. I was just relaxing in the room watching music videos when this fool Montego Gray says that he wants to study.
It was almost impossible for me to pull myself out of bed and away from Ms. Trina's backside . uh, I mean her music video ;-). She's bad.
As I trudge to Davis, I start to get nostalgic.
I used to have no worries. Just chillin'.
I'm talking about way back. Playing with the American hero, G.I. Joe. It was all about Duke and Cobra Commander. Transformers were more than meets the eye. Optimus Prime was the man in those days. I can't forget about He-Man and Skeletor.
I never even had to touch a book and still got Os and As like it was nothing. (Maryland heads know about the Os, Ss and Ns.) I just watched cartoons all afternoon.
At 5 p.m. I hit the field for tackle football. I wanted to be like Gary Clark. The game would always be interrupted for the ice cream truck - the hot spot for the whole neighborhood.
I can't forget about Nintendo. Mario Brothers, Contra, Tecmo Bowl, Mike Tyson's Punch-Out - all the classics.
Sega Genesis was the funnest joint! I destroyed all comers in Madden. The Cowboys, Bills and Raiders were the squads. The computer was some straight trash. The score would be like 85-0.
I was taking everybody's lunch money in Lakers vs. Celtics. Detroit was my team. Isaiah had that sweet spin move. Laimbeer was automatic from long range, and the bench was tight. Vinny "The Microwave" Johnson and Mark Aguire could heat it up quick!
Basketball was art in the 80s. Jordan. Bird. Magic. Showtime. The Bad Boy Pistons. Clyde The Glide. Barkley.
High school was the &*#$!&! You were a baller just to have a license. Big Pimpin' if you had a ride. Perpetratin' like you were Big Willy just to get some girls - even if it was to cruise around the corner to get some milk. (You know I had to take a spin around the block to impress the honies in my bucket.)
I posted up by my locker, in the hallway and in the cafeteria. I crept around Paint Branch High School like it was nothing.
Man, I could actually afford to hit a mall and do some real shopping. Fresh Jordans and Foamposites stayed in my shopping bag.
We went to the mall for no reason other than to get some numbers. Prince Georges Plaza after school was like whoa.
My game was pretty weak. I would say: "What's up? What's your name? What school do you go to? Let me get your number."
It was all good. Shoot, back in those days you didn't need game. Get the digits, and invite the girl over when the folks aren't around.
Or even better: Roll over to her place on the sneak tip. Half the fun was knowing you could get busted at any moment. I never had any ID on me in case I had to confront some girl's angry Pops.
Mr. (girl's last name): "My name is Bennett, and I ain't in it!"
Daddy never knew that his little girl could get a little freaky!
I had the Big Three at all times: Time. Money. Women. If you ain't got time, you ain't got money, and if you ain't got money, you ain't got women .
It's too bad the world has to be like this, but I realize everyday that it's all about the $. And that's sad.
With these fond memories weighing on me, my backpack feels even heavier.
I finally have made it to Davis.
Uh-oh. There goes Iris Brown. She wanted to study with me, but I turned her down. The girl is too fine to study with. I'm trying to be productive.
Let me dip around the corner real quick .
Damn. She saw me! That girl Iris always has a way of seeing things.
The spot is the fifth floor. I whip out the books and realize why I'm here. I like this stuff. I'd learn the information even if it weren't for a grade or a job.
Needless to say, I do a lot of studying, though. A lot people on this campus do some hard-core studying. There are people that live in the Undergraduate Library.
I hope Boone Turchi knows that .
Turchi is an excellent professor, but it hurts for him to say that grades are inflated.
Turchinomics: Grades (prices) are inflated, so raise the standards (rates).
Alan Greenspan, UNC-style.
It's already 9 p.m., and there is no sign of Montego. I've got to call him.
"Montego, what's up?"
"Kofi, I'm here with my girl, Goldie. Forget studying, I need to make a move on this loot. %$^&* school. It's all about money and women for me."
Reach the junior business major from Silver Spring, Md., at email@example.com. Remember the names Montego Gray, Iris Brown and Goldie.