Robert - Home

I watched my cousin Toby change a tire on his car and I remembered that I am not a man. I don't think I'd ever seen a star wrench before, and the extent of my knowledge of brake pads comes mostly from Tommy Boy.

"Here, take this and check the tire pressure on that wheel over there," my uncle Marty said as he handed me the nozzle of an air compressor.

"Okay LOL," I replied with the grandest of false confidences, and I walked the plank over to the right front tire. What the hell does this thing do? This looks unscrewable. *Unscrews.* I bet I can jam this in here. *Giggles.* Uh... Shit. Okay, this looks like it's working. Actually, I have no idea if this is working. Keep looking diligent. No, don't look up, he'll see the green fear in your eyes. What do I do? Maybe I can stay here forever and have Copper bring me dead rabbits every day to eat. I don't think it would be that bad. I don't think rabbit meat is that tough. It certainly beats looking foolish at car stuff. Oh sweet God thank you, Marty's leaving the garage to get something. "Toby..."

This past Friday I cashed in my extra meal points for this week's cereal at the local campus market. My shopping rendezvous complete, I carried home a plastic shopping bag full of light-to-semi-heavy items. My friend Garrett remembered a time recently when I ran into him, arms full of shopping bags, breaking both bags wide open.

"I bet you won't hit me with that bag," he said with a distinctly Conor-esque inflection.