breast of the shirts. Most of the time Darlene barely wore shoes. On a good day, she would wear underwear if there were any clean. George was buttoned down and buttoned up and she could tell he came from wealth.
It didn’t take her long in her first three years of college to learn the difference between money, nouveau riche, and the wealthy. George Patterson was old black money and he had a wallet full of credit cards. She noticed that little tidbit when he opened it to make a donation at a Save the Whales rally.
“When are you going to go on a date with me Darlene Hill? I am tired of following you all over campus as you try to save the world and everything in it,” he confessed one evening as he walked her back to her dorm.
“George, a man has to believe in something, otherwise he only exists to be a puppet for the corporate machine that threatens to run us all. Someone has to take a stand and fight back. Pretty soon these big businesses are going to buy their way into our government and have laws and legislation passed that will destroy this planet and everything in it so they can make a profit. Even sooner, we will be eating lab created food grown with lab created seeds which will result in our children being dumber and reaching breeding ability faster. It’s the same thing they did with the slaves George; they bred them dumber and stronger. Slaves, George! I am all for making a living, but it won’t mean crap if there is no planet left to live on or the people running it are too dumb to understand how to survive,” she told him with fire in her eyes.
That speech was enough for George. Without warning, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. This was also the time that George learned Darlene had taken a self-defense course. As he lay on the sidewalk cupping his reproductive units, Darlene walked away from him. She didn’t care if she ever saw the man again.
Ironically, it was hunger that brought him back into her life. In her endless pursuit of justice, she had failed to give any to her financial aid packet, and she was out of funds. Her brother James was in the military and stationed in the Gulf, so calling him for reserves was out of the question. Her oldest brother, Roosevelt, who was older by three years, had finished college and had taken a job in a small town in the Southern portion of Georgia. The town was so small, she didn’t remember the name of it. Calling her mother was out of the question. Money was too tight to even ask Eloise Hill for any extra. The mistake was hers therefore the cross was hers to bear.
“George, this is Darlene Hill,” she said hopefully into the phone. “I was calling to check on you, to make sure you were alright.”
“You pack a heck of a wallop, but I am okay,” he said followed by with a long winded sigh. “Darlene, have dinner with me?”
That was the correct question because she was starving. The last items in her pantry were three cans of vegetable beef soup and two packs of ramen noodles. Those would have to last for a while. Lucky for her, George liked to eat out and not in the cafeteria.
Their first date he drove up in a shiny blue BMW with a state of the art sound system that he used to play only Donald Fagen and Michael Franks. Darlene didn’t even think that a meal was worth suffering through a car ride of that music. Instead of changing the channel, she turned the music down so she could talk to him.
“Man, MTV has gone live. British bands are the rage, Madonna is taking the world by storm, Duran Duran is the hottest ticket around and you are listening to Michael Franks!” She said with a bit of disgust in her voice.
George was nonplussed. “Yeah, when those guys are one hit wonders and old men with bald heads and tight leather pants, I can still buy tickets to hear Donald Fagen and his music will not be dated. I won’t have to attend a retro concert filled with has beens trying to capture a time when
It didn’t take her long in her first three years of college to learn the difference between money, nouveau riche, and the wealthy. George Patterson was old black money and he had a wallet full of credit cards. She noticed that little tidbit when he opened it to make a donation at a Save the Whales rally.
“When are you going to go on a date with me Darlene Hill? I am tired of following you all over campus as you try to save the world and everything in it,” he confessed one evening as he walked her back to her dorm.
“George, a man has to believe in something, otherwise he only exists to be a puppet for the corporate machine that threatens to run us all. Someone has to take a stand and fight back. Pretty soon these big businesses are going to buy their way into our government and have laws and legislation passed that will destroy this planet and everything in it so they can make a profit. Even sooner, we will be eating lab created food grown with lab created seeds which will result in our children being dumber and reaching breeding ability faster. It’s the same thing they did with the slaves George; they bred them dumber and stronger. Slaves, George! I am all for making a living, but it won’t mean crap if there is no planet left to live on or the people running it are too dumb to understand how to survive,” she told him with fire in her eyes.
That speech was enough for George. Without warning, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. This was also the time that George learned Darlene had taken a self-defense course. As he lay on the sidewalk cupping his reproductive units, Darlene walked away from him. She didn’t care if she ever saw the man again.
Ironically, it was hunger that brought him back into her life. In her endless pursuit of justice, she had failed to give any to her financial aid packet, and she was out of funds. Her brother James was in the military and stationed in the Gulf, so calling him for reserves was out of the question. Her oldest brother, Roosevelt, who was older by three years, had finished college and had taken a job in a small town in the Southern portion of Georgia. The town was so small, she didn’t remember the name of it. Calling her mother was out of the question. Money was too tight to even ask Eloise Hill for any extra. The mistake was hers therefore the cross was hers to bear.
“George, this is Darlene Hill,” she said hopefully into the phone. “I was calling to check on you, to make sure you were alright.”
“You pack a heck of a wallop, but I am okay,” he said followed by with a long winded sigh. “Darlene, have dinner with me?”
That was the correct question because she was starving. The last items in her pantry were three cans of vegetable beef soup and two packs of ramen noodles. Those would have to last for a while. Lucky for her, George liked to eat out and not in the cafeteria.
Their first date he drove up in a shiny blue BMW with a state of the art sound system that he used to play only Donald Fagen and Michael Franks. Darlene didn’t even think that a meal was worth suffering through a car ride of that music. Instead of changing the channel, she turned the music down so she could talk to him.
“Man, MTV has gone live. British bands are the rage, Madonna is taking the world by storm, Duran Duran is the hottest ticket around and you are listening to Michael Franks!” She said with a bit of disgust in her voice.
George was nonplussed. “Yeah, when those guys are one hit wonders and old men with bald heads and tight leather pants, I can still buy tickets to hear Donald Fagen and his music will not be dated. I won’t have to attend a retro concert filled with has beens trying to capture a time when
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