There's one of the bunch that I haven't mentioned, for he is no longer with us.
Once there was a boy who owned a blue jacket.
This jacket wasn't very clean, so it was dubbed "crappy."
From that day forward, the boy was known as Crappy Blue Jacket.
Yes, children, this is the Legend of CBJ. CBJ was a real looker: black mustache, beady eyes, and greasy hair. Almost too stereotypical, and way too good to be true. Indeed, for the short time we were privileged to be in his presence, we were given some wonderful memories. Take, for example, the day we were standing in line for lunch. I was standing there holding a $5 bill and CBJ was in front of me. CBJ was holding three $1 bills and was looking pretty full of himself over this fact. He turns to me and asks as he holds out the three ones, "Wanna trade?"
Well, one of the dollars was crisp. But, being the sharp dealer that I am, I noted that one of the dollars was ripped and had a conspicuous tape job on it.
"Whoa, what's that? You're going to have to throw in about three more to make up for that one."
"I don't got three more dollars."
"Oh well, we would have closed the deal if you had."
Yeah. I miss those days. But this was nothing compared to the one that ended our time with CBJ. There was a paper due in class and, true to his UP-level roots, CBJ had failed to turn it in. Admin called him to her desk and inquired as to the reason why she didn't have a paper from him. I had a probation hearing. Yes, that's right, a probation hearing. As in dealing with the police. Welcome to University Prep.
But, alas, Admin finally got her paper and it was, to say the least, abhorrent. Three errors on the title page. Not formatting, either--grammar. I read it. My partner read it. We laughed for fifteen minutes straight. The paper, however, hinted to Admin that there may be a problem with CBJ's training. Sure enough, CBJ hadn't received a credit in a prerequisite course. Ergo, CBJ was no longer entitled to remain in our class.
The news was delivered to CBJ rather abruptly. Admin was discussing something with my partner and me, she suddenly looks up, and announces, "CBJ, gather your materials and go see your guidance counselor. Leave your book with me." Before he's even out the door, she tells everyone in the row CBJ was sitting in to move down one seat. Touché.
I met up with CBJ shortly after the "incident" whilst talking to another administrator. He tells me, "She threw me out." I sort of chuckled, not wanting to make public the true reason for his departure to the administrator (oh, the ironies involved here). The administrator asked him, "Are you an academic student?"
"Well, I am this semester; last semester I didn't turn anything in."
I'm sorry, but CBJ, indeed any UP kid for the most part, and "academic" should not be mentioned in the same breath unless either is preceded by "not." But then I'm sure CBJ is on the way to a Rhodes Scholarship.