Wil's First Substantial Post!

(After a little self-deliberation, it was decided that my first post would not be in response to a current event, but to a strange occurance that took place to some of my friends and I a few days ago. In an empty parking lot, some asshole parked behind the only other car in the lot (us) and deemed us and the surrounding area eligible to hear his music. It was a fairly uncomfortable situation, but in this story I'm going to try to see it all from an angle other than my own.)



I will tell you the story of the egalitarian.

His motorcycle was all he could hear as the egalitarian and his friend rode towards White Bank Park. The solitary road, arched with trees darkened by the lateness of day, flew back, and the space turned into a parking lot with overgrown lawn grass. The brown lake shown directly ahead. The playground is empty save for a brother and sister riding their bikes, and their grandfather tending to them.

Nearing the shelter and playground area, the egalitarian is suddenly and forcefully alerted to things misplaced -- four boys, sitting in a car parked directly in opposition to the parking spaces, with their windows down, doing nothing. His sunglasses are on, and as he lets his friend off at the shelters, he turns his head directly into the faces of these boys. Their obtuse puppy faces look at him, then look down, then look away. Nothing going on registers with them. They are safely kept to their own devices by the glass and metal that separates them from atmosphere (or so they thought). Each boy is reassured, kept cripplingly introverted by the others, the egalitarian thinks.

So he starts his motorcycle and maneuvers it to be directly behind their car, stops. I'll pick some of my music, he thinks. They've never heard this. It started. The boys glance around, flustered, and choose to ignore him. "Let me pick one y'all will like." He speaks in a normal voice. Highway to Hell. The boys continue to ignore him. No matter how comfortable your space in that car is, he muses, you simply can't ignore the state of things.

His friend materializes at the front of the shelter area. "No one wants to hear your music," she drawls carelessly, a confirmed and smug look on her face. She doesn't look at the boys. She doesn't understand. "I don't give a fuck what anyone thinks." Those boys think they understand the world -- they've got another thing coming.

They got the message. The egalitarian has other places to be. His friend climbs onto the back of the wide white motorcycle, and they accelerate parabolically, their black leather clinging close to their bodies.