Neither was RC III. Thursdays are the quietest days because the resort cabins turn over. Lots of people head home after their week on the lake. We were staffed low and expected a slow day. (Thankfully, it rained pretty bad too, which reinforces slower business.) It was just me and Dante and he ha...
Not at Disney World, though. At another ugly bus station. I might sleep here. I did it before; I can do it again. I slept in the Jacksonville bus station for like an hour. No one murdered me! I did not die of summer sausage intake! There is still ha...
I thought about poor Pig Boy lying awake at night staring at Curtis’s empty bed. I did sit next to Karpinski at lunch. I did make Abby laugh with my “I’m with Stupid” T-shirt, but I didn’t care so much. Karpinski said, “Oh yeah, that’s a really funny joke, Rein Stone” when...
on Saturday morning. I had been asleep, but I was worried enough about Maggie to zombie roll out of bed and answer. It wasn’t my lady friend. It was Mr. Nussbaum. “Would you like a ride to the office, amigo?” he asked. “You bet your pants,” I said, although I wasn’t exactl...
Rimberg Letter 13September 2, 2004 Dear Sherri Staltz (if that's your name now—I assume you're married and whoever you're married to is very lucky), I'm sorry I repeatedly touched your knees and legs backstage during the high school production of Our Town. As I was a football player and an egoman...
We didn’t say a word while we rolled through Minnekota, but RC III smiled. I wasn’t smiling. I was nervous, had to shut off my phone. No more Dad texts. RC III and I pulled into the parking lot in his Honda. There weren’t many cars, but we were earl...