IF YOU DON'T LIKE WHAT I SAY, YOU PROBABLY SUCK.

While we’re sharing photographic memory (metaphorically speaking, of course), I’d like to share this story. 

I parked ridiculously close to Michelle’s car one morning before class because I thought it would be funny to be an asshole and make her climb into her car through the passenger side (I would later discover that it was, as I predicted, quite funny).  So third period comes around and I feign a subtle comment about her car.  I asked something like, “Have you seen your car lately, Michelle?”  Curious and worried, she got a pass to go to the restroom from Mr. Bishop (I hope she doesn’t use the restroom in her car; she drives me places).  Anyway, she takes this picture, comes back, we all laugh about it, and she says, “It’s okay, I’ll just re-park during fourth period when I leave campus to sell ads for journalism.”  So she does.  My sixth period journalism class rolls around and guess who has two thumbs and gets to go sell ads.  Caleb.  But so do I.  As I’m leaving the parking lot, I make a mental note of Michelle’s new parking spot next to which, foolishly on her part, has an empty parking spot.  So I leave campus, doodle around the roads of Cartersville as if my car were a pencil retracing the lines of previous graphite trails, and return to school.  And I do it again.  She climbed through her passenger door twice that day.