14

The Trainer

15

With a kind of extrasensory perception that would be the envy of any psychic friend, Andy motions toward the door and warns, “Crunch!” With that Bobby pulls the floppies from both drives and puts them back into his binder. Then he pulls out a floppy labeled “Comp. Sci. Homework” and leaves it prominently on the counter. Mr. Gelmer, alias ‘Captain Crunch’, walks in and begins with his signature salutation, “Hello nerdlings. Are we crunching some numbers here?” Bobby tries to one-up Gelmer, “We’d be crunching a lot more if you boosted the memory from 64k to 128.” Mr. Gelmer ups the ante. “I suppose you want me to add a five meg hard drive to the system, too.” “Actually, 20 megs would be better.” “What could anyone ever do with that much hard drive space?” “Store pictures I get from my bulletin board’s e-mail.” Mr. Gelmer furrows his eyebrows together with disapproval as he picks up the “Comp. Sci.” disk and shakes it at Bobby. “Those better be bitmaps of Hoppalong Cassidy and Beagle Brothers.” “What’s e-mail?” asks a confused Andy. Melissa rolls her eyes with disapproval. “Only a computer geek would know, like, what it is.” “Dude, she’s right. Computers are for geeks who like to crunch numbers and stare at green screens all day,” adds John. Bobby becomes defensive. “Dude! That’s so not true. My cousin and I keep in touch through an electronic mailbox using a network of Bulletin Board Services. I can’t wait ’til they’re connected to the Internet.” “What’s Internet?” asks a still-confused Andy. While shaking his head and chuckling to himself, Mr. Gelmer leaves the room as he makes one final observation. “Someday, Bulletin Board Services will go the way of 8-track tapes because you’ll connect directly to the Internet to check e-mail. Which means, of course, you’ll all have your very own computer, especially you, Melissa.” Melissa rolls her eyes again and this time pops her bubble gum to underscore her disapproval. “Not! Oh my God! I’ll never own one of those stupid things.”

“Me neither, dude,” John adds. “Whatever. Allz I know is four years from now, when I’m done with college, I’ll be pullin’ down $45,000 working for a computer company while you two ignoramuses will still be makin’ $3.25 an hour flippin’ burgers.” Andy can’t take it anymore. “Hey, college boy, you applied to G.L.U.?” “The glue factory?! No way. I’m shooting for Carnegie Mellon.” “What’s wrong with G.L.U.?” asks Jacquelyn, with earnest concern in her expression. Bobby realizes his transgression. He briefly forgot that Jacquelyn has her hopes pinned on going to Great Lakes University. “Nothing. I just think Carnegie Mellon’s got a better comp. sci. program.” With as much warning as a California earthquake and about the same magnitude, a thunderous clap of flatulence erupts from between Andy’s tightly clenched cheeks, instantly eliciting disparaging euphemisms from John, Melissa, and Jacquelyn as they make a beeline for the door. Only Bobby remains. Sitting with his nose tucked in his shirt, he turns back to the computer, sliding the diskette into the lower drive. “Dude, I’m pretty sure you’re gonna be eternally single.” With a sheepish kind of agreement yet denial, Andy musters his reply, “No way man! Chicks dig me.” Then he adds proudly, “I’ve got an ass to die for.”

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