The white envelope could not have tarnished the earth more.
“It has to be picked up,” I commanded my hand.
The cheap paper envelope was nothing more than some flimsy industrialized paper creatively folded to sembelate an envelope.
The black typewriter style type alerted a money sense.
Without hesitation, a wind pressed down on my thumb in a cold Lake Tahoe blast that pushed my forefinger up from below the envelope to meet my thumb. I looked down at what an act of nature had made my hand commit and what I saw was a perforation. The hedonistic motor pleasure of puncturing more perforation could not be stopped and when I looked down I saw it. What could unmistakably be a report card. The five little columns with a list of the 5 periods throughout the day. Followed by the course name and the bitch that gave this miscreant a D- in Algebra. My eyes scanned the report card with greedy pleasure. The purple floral background was clearly embedded it to the cheap ass paper to soothe the parents of this young fuck up that it was OK to get a D-. Especially cuz this kid got a D+ in Study Skills.
And I flash. I see this child – for the jews really do believe that 12 is a child and 13 is a man and it clearly states that..what is this 9th grader’s name anywhoo? Marco Lozano. I knew a Marco when I was 12. And he sure sucked at Algebra too.
How did young Marco fuck up so much on his study skills? Mr. Whitemore, the tight wad that gave Marco a D- in Algebra gave him the D is social skills – and why not? How many fucking social Algebrains do you know? But Mr. Whitemore was stereotyping Marco. He must be on the North Tahoe Titans foot ball team (he got a A in PE). And there were some positive vibes this summer in Tahoe. I’ll bet Marco got his first jerk around from one of the fine chickino latties around his hood. How can you expect a sexually active summer Lake Tahoe-ian to apply himself in mid-August when he is still gettin summer hummers from Maria. I think he just met a girl named Maria.
She probably checked his mail for him and threw the report card away. No only he would do it – because he would be the only one who can fight the temptation of opening a report card let alone his. I can see him crossing the intersection while the open air blows cold against his body. His eyes skimming through the family’s mail and when the dreaded report card comes, he quickly snatches it and tosses it over his shoulder with a laugh.
But wait, the chances are high that Marco’s responsible parents haven’t given him a key to the mailbox yet so how could he have picked up the mail?
The UNCLE!! It must have been Uncle Jorge who checks his brother’s mailbox and destroyed the report card for little Marco. Uncle’s always want to do the cool thing and Jorge saw little Marco suffering with failure after failure nightly. Jorge probably thought he was saving his parents heartache. Jorge was probably a D student too.
And then I walked up the front doorsteps of my home and turned around to see the road behind me. My road leads to a gigantic lake. What does yours lead to?