The Bellarmine Boys

I would be writing something else right now, but I'm finding it difficult to concentrate with these Bellarmine boys making so much noise. They're names are Mike, Nick, Steven and Ralph. I only know this because, unlike most teenagers that simply call each other "hey you" or "dude", these guys actually use proper names. They're like soap opera characters that say each other's names regularly to familiarize new audience members with who's who.

Before Ralph boarded the train, the other three were attempting to study. When I was their age, I never spent my mornings studying. I spent them rushing to complete homework from the previous night. I was feeling ashamed until I heard this exchange...

Steven: Nick, what question are you on?
Nick: I'm on number seven.
Steven: I'm only on number six. I don't think we're going to finish the assignment before first period.
Mike: Frap! Steven, we have an assignment?

In an instant, shame became pride. I was proud to see the tradition of procrastination still alive and strong. Its torch still burns brightly for today's youth and burns brightest for Mike, who not only had to borrow a pencil from Nick, but also had to search for spare paper from classmates in the adjoining car.

Once Ralph boarded, I surrendered to the distraction. He announced to everybody within earshot (intentionally or not) that he was going to the Giants season opener this afternoon with his dad. I admit to being slightly jealous, but tried to be happy for him. After all, he was going to be experiencing the game from the same lower level seats he and his dad had at PacBell Park during the World Series three years ago. "Not jealous. Happy," I told myself a few times to make it stick.

His bragging stopped abruptly when he noticed that he didn't have a yellow piece of paper like everybody else onboard. It was a survey form from Caltrain. This morning, they wanted to know how we felt about they're proposed rate hikes and service reductions.

If the proposal passes, I'll be paying more money for fewer trains between home and work. I thought about writing in the comments section, "Thank you, sir! May I have another?" Figuring they wouldn't appreciate the bitter sarcasm, I wrote instead, "If it's going to cost more to ride, can you at least run baby bullets south of San Jose?" Weak, I know. Now I wish I went with bitter sarcasm.

Anyway, Ralph saw the survey forms and the following conversation transpired...

Ralph: Hey, Mikey, why are those papers so yellow?
Mike: I don't know, Ralphie. They just are. Leave me alone.
Ralph: They remind me of pee.
Mike: What? Pee? Yo, that's whack!
Ralph: Uh-uh.
Mike: ...
Ralph: I got my toilet back.
Mike: Got it back?
Ralph: Yeah, the one across the hall broke, so my dad took it to the shop. I had to use the one all the way at the other end of the house.
Mike: That sucks. Now, shut up.

That's where I left them. Considering their stop was less than five minutes after mine, I doubt any of them finished the assignment. If they're lucky, they'll have some time during class to wrap it up and slip it into the teacher's pile before he notices. On a personal note, the Bellarmine boys inadvertently helped me finish my unofficial weekday assignment: write a journal entry before work.