“You wouldn’t believe those Amherst College kids,” Pete says while he smokes on the other side of the counter and I, in search of a chapter that might be worth reading, flip through a Patricia Cornwell novel off the rack that gets filled every couple of weeks by the same guy who brings the new porn and picks up the old.
“Why not?”
“The shit they throw away, man!” White caterpillar brows crawl up his forehead in shock. “I pulled a computer out of the dumpster today!”
“A computer?”
“Yeah, I wish I had electricity. Those rich kids, they don’t know a damn thing, throwing shit away when the limo comes to take them home at the end of the year.” He finishes smoking and drops the butt on the floor, then sees my face and picks it up to keep until he gets outside. “I got a new bike today. Someone left it beside a dumpster.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah! Hey, there were more, I’ll bring you one.”