The Others, Food
by: Philip Hassey

        I suppose there remains to be told about the few others who lived in the hall. Tim Esh and Kris Clester were roommates, and I don't think they were happy about it. For no reason in particular, I decided to call them by their last names, probably because Esh is cooler than Tim, and Clester deserved to be called that. Loudly.
        "Clester, what are you doing?" I'd scream down the hall occasionally. He usually wouldn't answer because he was usually not there. He was usually in the Houghton Help desk, answering Tech Support questions about the laptops and the network. A large ego trip sort of thing, I'm sure. I got the same kind of power trip working for Tech Services, doing lab stuff, but more of an inner conceit shared only with my co-workers, rather than broadcasted loudly for all to hear.
        "Esh, what are you doing?" I'd scream down the hall other times. He usually wouldn't answer because he was usually out with his women. I'm not certain if he had a harem or not that year, but I think he had a small highly complicated one. When he was there, he gave me food. Food really made me feel a deep bond with him, even if I rarely saw him.

        Lukey had food in his room. That was another reason I would hang out with him, and plead at his feet.
        "Lukeeeey!" I wailed, "Can I have another oyster cracker, pleeeeeeeease?"
        "No," said Lukey, and looked back down at his biology text.
        "Lukey!" I yelled, "I want a cracker Now!"
        "No," said Lukey, ignoring my chants.
        "I'll break into your dresser, and get them out," I warned him. He ignored me, because he thought it was a bluff. I tried to break in, but failed, so I guess it was a bluff.
        "Generosity is one of the Fruits of the Spirit," I said.
        He looked over at me and contemplated that one for a few seconds and responded back towards his textbook, "So is self-control," dang.
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