allamericanboy (allamericanboy) wrote in forgotten_gods, @ 2008-07-15 23:50:00 |
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Entry tags: | democratic party, marijuana |
Who: The Democratic Party and Marijuana
Where: One of the NYU Libraries down in the Village
When: Afternoon
Rating/Warnings: PG-13
Mark frequented the Village. Not because, as many liked to suspect, he was some sort of secret hipie beatnick who reveled in buying used clothes and pipes, but because he happened to favour only two libraries in the city. Columbia's, uptown, and NYU's, downtown. He liked college students. It wasn't something many came out and said honestly, but for Mark it was true. He liked their spirit and their drive and their willingness to come to the Left. It was a little like preaching to the choir, but sometimes he needed a boost of confidence and power from that choir. College libraries were easy feeding grounds.
Some faux philosophical subject was always being discussed and they were simple enough to overhear. The students were normally preaching to the choir themselves, all Leftists, the lot of them sitting there and simply agreeing with each other. Building themselves up to believe that as left-wing Democrats, they would change the world. That was what Mark wanted them to believe. Hell, he wanted it to be true. It was what he did- Mark Harden, changing the world four years at a time.
Or trying to, at any rate. The latest cover of the New Yorker wasn't helping matters. "Time to pull out the 'he's not Muslim' cue cards again," Mark muttered to himself. He stood up from his carrel (well, it wasn't his, but the student whose things were there was currently elsewhere) and slung the case for his laptop over his shoulder.
"Hey, you're the guy from NBC, right?"
Mark turned back around, quickly scanning the area until he found the group who'd spoken. Oddly enough, two girls and a boy were all crammed into the carrel that had been just on the other side of his. He could only assume that his intense reading and continually growing anger over the New Yorker had kept him from noticing both the college students and the numerous bits of drug paraphernalia they had very carefully laid out on the table.
He ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I am," he answered. His face could only look amused as one of the girls started rolling a joint, as if she hadn't a care in the world. NYU was liberal, but it wasn't that liberal. "Mind if I ask you three a question."
"Go for it," the guy said with a shrug.
"Are you three registered to vote?" Mark found himself asking that question a lot.
There were three identical nods and a hand which lifted joint and lighter to lips. "Why?"
"Because I believe in the right of every citizen to make it known what he or she stands for," he said very matter-of-factly. He nodded. "Because you three have the right to cast a ballot that says Marijuana should be a completely legal drug and that the security guard in the shelves over there shouldn't have the obligation to come over here and arrest you when he gets out of the KFH section. What is that, anyway… Hawaiian Law?" He never had memorised the Library of Congress call number system. A pity since it wasn't as if he'd not had the time.
But by the time Mark looked back to get an answer to his question, the students had vanished.
"It's fun to watch them scatter," he muttered, scooping a forgotten lighter up off the table and pocketing it without care. It was a nice lighter.