School Supply Line  I'm in a station wagon driving with my family. In another car I see my classmate from Brimson Monique Thorble, a woman from my grade school named  Liza Kroll, and two other women. They are all made up for a college dance. They are wearing bright, literally flashing clothes, lots of makeup, and glitter on their faces. I feel like a dork riding in a big station wagon. They know I see them, and they look back at me, noticing that I notice them, but not noticing me back. They are making fun of me, saying I am funny looking and gross, and acting repulsed that I notice them in the car.  I'm at Carter School. Lots of kids are there to get school supplies. Parents may be there too. I see my grade school classmate Jeff Vaurnet, and talk to him. I say I work with his brother Ryan. Jeff seems to know this already. He says, "Yeah, leeches with hooks in them with leather (somehow on the hooks)." There are long lines to buy school supplies. There is a line for each of two categories. I'm in the category with more people. The categories are based on experience: maybe grade level. There is a fat salesman there. When it is my turn I tell him he is a jerk. I deride him and leave. I am outside of the school. I try to slam dunk a plastic milk carton on a rusty net less basketball rim. The rim is high, and I don't come close, so I lay it in. I think people are there watching.