"What the fuck's that got to do with me?" Stony was getting nervous.

"Man, you goin' down to Louisiana cause a the bad el-e-ment up here, right? But you all goin' to Chocolate City!" Mac started laughing again.

"What?"

"Ain't you hip to Purdy, man? That school so black it makes Howard look like University of Vermont!"

Stony was speechless. Butler took a swig of soda, then started laughing so hard Coke spurted from both nostrils.

"Man, how you ever apply there?"

"My counselor was tryin' to think of a place I could get in." Stony looked like he just poured his Coke down the front of his pants.

"Hey lissen, man, I know Purdy, mah cousin went there. Hey, ain't ... ain't you ever heard a ... a Grambling or a Tuskeegee?"

"Yeah, but..."

"Then you heard a Purdy!" Chili Mac hooted with glee. "Ah hopes you get into a good fraternity, bawh!"

"Hey, Stony!" Stony turned mechanically to Butler. "I think we just got the results a your blood test."

As the day wore on and Stony got increasingly fucked up on the Mac's stash, his mood shifted from shock and embarrassment to near hysterical laughter. Fuck college anyway. When Stony left the crib he was too wasted to drive so he jumped a cab home.

***

"Where to, Rocco?" The cabdriver had a shaved head and a thick drooping mustache.

"Co-op City."

"Mind if I do it for myself?"

"Two bucks?" Stony bargained.

The cabdriver nodded in agreement. Stony noticed the driver's big shoulders and meaty face. With the mustache and the shaved head he looked like a heavy in a James Bond movie. After two minutes of kamikaze driving they stopped dead in heavy traffic. "Shit!" He flipped the car into neutral and leaned his back against the door, drumming his fingers on the top of the front seat. "Look a' this fuckin' traffic. This is no good." He shook his head disgustedly, picking at his mustache. "No fuckin' good for you an' no fuckin' good for me." In the rearview mirror he noticed a small green Triumph inching its way between lanes. "Look a' this cocksucker!" He put the cab in drive and moved it out of his lane, blocking the Triumph.

"Where you think you goin', shithead?" he bellowed, leaning out his window. The driver of the Triumph stopped and tried to appear nonchalant, casually looking out his window and tugging on the knot of his tie.

"Hey"—the cabby turned to Stony—"dig this clown." Stony twisted around to check the guy through the rear window. The driver's cheeks puckered and his lips pursed in what looked like a pantomime of whistling. Stony laughed. Traffic started moving. The cabby pulled back into his lane. The Triumph stayed put until the cars behind it started honking. The cabby cackled. "I could go two fuckin' miles an hour from here to Maine, that guy wouldn't dare pass me. Fuckin' college assholes. They all got the ol' man in Westchester throws 'em a TR-IV for their birthdays, right? You go to college?" He faced Stony.