Car crushes, Hope, and Miscommunication pt. III

In response to me saying, "I both want to turn my celphone off so I don't worry about it, and leave it on, because it's hard for me to give up hope."

So, on the way back in to HoV's apartment, he basically agreed that things are fucked.

As Kurt Angle would say, "Oh,it's true. It's true."

But I told him that I'll always have hope. Shipwrecked with a tiger in the middle of the Pacific, I'll have Hope. After a nuclear war, I'll have Hope. While lacerating myself with self-doubt and recreational drugs, I'll still have Hope. While chasing after a girl, I'll have Hope.

It's the problem growing up as a Cubs fan.

'My hope is a goddamn cockroach, it can't be killed. My hope is a goddamn worm, you can cut it into tinier and tinier pieces and each piece will live on, on its own."

"Those are two different things."

"Well, dammit, my hope is a goddamn genetically engineered cockroach-worm."

And so, I leave the celphone on.

And what is more, my friends, it rings.

It's Radcliffe, complaining about Spokane. I should have turned the phone off.