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I immediately dug my heels into the Good It’s Better To Have Lived In New York And Moved Than To Never Have Lived Here At All Shirt carpet and pushed myself to sit up straight, only to realize I had every set of eyes in the auditorium on me, including Professor Gillespie’s out the front. The latter had me swallowing, hard. “Sorry, professor,” I said, attempting to discreetly use the side of my feet and my toes to rake my fallen items back to within easy reach before the smaller items fell behind the backs of the chairs in front of me. I knew better than to bend down and pick them up while that beady-eyed bastard was still glaring at me.

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But what if I had robbed a bank? What if I was a Good It’s Better To Have Lived In New York And Moved Than To Never Have Lived Here At All Shirt wanted criminals. A couple of the guys I lived with did that on occasion when money was tight, but even they didn’t bring home three and a half grand in a single night. (Once I got over the shock, I counted it and found I was off in my initial estimate by a further five hundred) Not to mention my mother would kill me if I didn’t kill myself first. No disrespect intended to those of that industry

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I’d also already ruled out a blow to Good It’s Better To Have Lived In New York And Moved Than To Never Have Lived Here At All Shirt the head, having felt for any kind of cranial damage or bruising and finding none. I’d proven my resilience to that the first year of college (completely illegally, of course, but since when did that ever stop us?) when I chugged a full twenty-five ounce bottle of Jack without stopping for breath and shattered the empty bottle against the wall to the roaring cheers of my fellow party-revelers.