So there was faboo, this other kid, and myself, and we were walking and taking the subway in the Bronx. Nowhere in particular I recognized. We went to a very hoity toity part (kinda reminded me of places in Borum Hill), and went into a garden-level coffee shop and I recognized someone. They had an apartment board, of sorts. We were looking for an apartment for faboo and he mentioned a few places, one near Prospect Park, but he says the neighborhood isn't that good (I slightly disagree with him, but apparently it is in the baddish section). Then he pulls out this little chunk of metal and places it on the table, says, you know, these come from Roll'n Roasters (a very small chain of 50's-schtick diners in Brooklyn), and he said there was someone else he knew who needed a roommate and he said he would mention faboo, as a friend of Huber's (as in Will Huber, the former editor of Reporter), faboo didn't know what he was talking about, but I talked over him to help him get the apartment.
The guy we were initially with was left behind and we took the guy from the coffee shop to Ohio State's campus in the Bronx (is there one? I have no idea). It looked incredibly industrial, and the new guy wanted to jump the fence to play with all the old rusted machinery. (train tracks, grain loaders, large pipes, fences. in particular there was this one big grain loader on a hill overlooking a pipe delivery thing, everything felt like it should have been brown-grey — all grass dead, all machinery slightly rusted).