“I think it’s time you moved out,” Callie flatly ordered me.
Apparently, my summer fling with not just Boxer, but also Callie, was ending. Her GW stoner roommates were moving back and wanted my bed a.s.a.p.
The times they were a-changin’.
We had been getting on each other’s nerves. Callie insisted on playing air-conditioning generalissimo, and I insisted she stop.
We needed air blowin’ in the wind.
She also said an abandoned stereo I found at the garbage chute was hers because it was located in HER apartment building.
This land was her land. The dumpster boom box was the final nail…
To add insult to injury, she waited to tell me she was kicking me out of the apartment after a beautiful evening at Wolf Trap outdoor amphitheater watching the love fest which is Peter, Paul, and Mary.
I was so mad. There was still a few more days before I had to move into the Burr dorms.
Puff! She wanted me gone.
I packed while repeating, “If I had a hammer…”