Livin' La Vida Lowell

It has been a trying time for the people you wish you were. On our way home from a benefit to raise awareness to "the dangers of a public school education", the Fp 500 we were riding in was struck by a drunken driver and had a horrific crash. Though I stayed conscious long enough to see we were hit by a drunken U. Lowell grad Craig MacTavish after another night of drinking at the Golden Banana, I quickly slipped into a coma.

During my ten-day period of comatose in the hospital, my convalescing mind reached down into its subaqueous regions to give me a look into how my life may have been if not for my haut monde upbringing and my nonpareilic education at America's Best College. Although deep in a medically monitored slumber, for ten days I envisioned myself living the indigent life of a U.Mass-Lowell graduate.

Instead of my lofty bedroom at Stately Pinhead Manor, I "awakened" in a one-room apartment next to a 280 lb. hispanic woman who I assumed was my girlfriend. Although my mind was incredulous, my body instinctively went through the motions to live out my day as a Lowell graduate. In lieu of a shower, I proceeded to the medicine cabinet for a splash of Drakkar Noir and opened the closet to see my Taco Bell uniform waiting for me next to my yellow leisure suit used primarily on the weekends.


In Lowell, prostitutes spend much of their spare time at local gyms to keep their bodies in top shape.

Walking outside my apartment to the parking lot, I proceeded right to my 1993 Toyota Corolla and turned on the engine. As my tape player pumped out the sweet tunes of Joe Cuba, who I somehow remembered as the "Father of the Puerto Rican Boogaloo", I checked the look in the mirror and imagined myself having the looks of Howie Dorough and the money and dance moves of Johnny Lozada.


Parking on Pawtucket Street in Lowell is free and is close to the UML campus.

I arrived at Taco Bell just in time for the normal breakfast rush. Due to the fact that I have a degree from U.Mass-Lowell, I get to choose my work responsibilities each morning. Variety is definitely the spice of life as sometimes I get to work the drive-thru and other times, I mix things up and just clean the bathrooms. My manager is a very nice guy and although he graduated from UML as class valedictorian, he doesn't show any superiority or pretentiousness towards any of the staff. If I had a father, he's exactly who I imagined him to be.

When my shift came to an end, I used my employee discount to pick up 8 Chilupas to bring to my "angel gigantesca" at home. I met her after her ex-husband went off to prison for selling crack, but I really have never been more happy in all my days. She is the type of woman who can keep you hot in the winter and cool in the summer.

While it took me some time to get used to all her tattoos, sometimes, I enjoy reading them while I pop the pimples on her back. Sure, although she is so large that I swear her clit has a knee, she makes this guy feel happier than the feeling you get when your unemployment compensation gets extended for another 6 weeks.


I pursued and she retreated, then she pursued and I retreated. Hours later, we were together and I was the proud stepfather of 6 kids.

When I finally awoke from my coma, I immediately told my collar-up chums of my experience as a Lowell graduate, albeit an ersatz existence, and we all had a good chortle. Considering the fact that a Lowell graduate will always live a subjacent life to that of a collar-up, I was happy to have survived my experience, although I did make a beeline for the Penicillin and took a long shower.

Collar Up.