won't you tell your dad get off my back?
tell him what we said 'bout "paint it black"

i swear, there's a guy living in the bowling alley in the basement of freeborn hall.� for the past two weeks, every time i've gone to buy crackers from the vending machine, that guy has always been sitting there at a table.� with a chess board laid out in front of him, and all the pieces in their starting positions.� there's no one playing against him.� hell, there's not even a chair on the opposite side.� on the floor beside him, he's always got empty orange soda bottles and crumpled up paper towels.� today he didn't even put up the pretense of having a home.� he was simply passed out, face down on the table.� the chess pieces all unmoved.� give it up, guy.� whoever she is or who she claimed she was, whenever she said she'd arrive, she certainly is not going to show up and play chess with you at this point.� tomorrow i'll bring my camera, and if you're still there, i'll take a picture of you.� just to prove to myself that this really happens and i don't just imagine it.

18 October 2001 - update

he's still there and i took a picture. move your cursor over this picture, to see him. aren't we cruel and voyeuristic!