I must now relate an epic that stretches from the farthest reaches of Hillsboro Avenue to the deepest recesses of the Foreign Language Labs. It was a day of supremely bad luck for our hero (namely me). With an ongoing flu I walked dispassionately through the cold rain and wind to the Foreign Language Labs on the quest given onto me by God Himself (or was it my E115 TA? I always get those two mixed up.): the quest to purchase 'print quota'. The building in sight, I exclaimed, "At long last, after minutes of searching, my travels are at an end!" Marching with the fury of a man with a purpose, I cross the street and prepared to enter. I opened my wallet in preparation to provide the five dollars necessary. Words cannot express the tsunami of frustration as I gazed upon the leather shield of my finances. Upon the curved leather lied two dollars. Two dollars. Not three, not four, and clearly not the necessary five. Two dollars. At where could I retrieve money? Since my arrival, I had been searching for the legendary Bank of America ATM. Tales of its ability to withdraw funds from one's account had circulated round the kingdom since time immemorial. But I had neither the time nor the energy to begin a quest to find so mythic a machine. So I turned away, and began walking in a direction I thought to be west back to my dorm to contemplate my next move. However, the gods smiled upon me that day (or perhaps it was my continual inability to find my around campus?), in that I was actually walking north. I wandered impassively this way for quite a while until I looked up and saw the bustling metropolis that is Hillsboro Avenue. At my wit's end, I cursed above, "Why, God, have you strewn me to this vast wasteland of cheap pizza and bookstores?" Without reason or motivation, I decided to cross the street. Upon striking the sidewalk of the other side, I looked up. I was blinded with bliss and fell upon my knees! The clouds parted and the light from above shone upon the object of my ultimate quest. Next to Kinko's did it lie. The mythical Bank of America ATM I had sought for so long. O, what glory shone upon me that day! With the speed of a man who had again discovered life, I inserted my card, proudly entered my pin, and withdrew enough funds to last me the rest of my natural life (or about a week, whichever comes first). Funds in hand, I strutted back to the Foreign Language Labs, filled out their trivial paper work, obtained the 'print quota' I so dearly needed. My quest was at an end. For now, I had funds, the location of the ATM, and the ability to print up to 83 pages on the university's computer. I left to return to my quiet room, leaving the bards to sing of my glorious victory for many a decade.
Journal - 25 August 2000: The Greatest Epic Ever Told