Mumford and Sons

On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays this semester, I have an hour long break starting at noon.  This is the perfect time to eat lunch, but not the perfect time to get lunch.  Everyone and their brother is impatiently waiting for whatever fast food they desire at this time.  Still, I find myself in line at Arby's preparing to indulge in a mouthwatering broccoli and cheddar baked potato.  I tend to enjoy washing it down with a refreshing, medium-sized cup of sweet tea.  It is rare that I ever eat there alone.  I almost always invite my friend Grant to join me in this event of fine dining.  This most recent Monday, it was no different.  As I sit near the entrance behind a half-chair/ half-booth table, I acknowledge Grant's presence as he walks through the door by questioning his decision to shave his handlebar mustache. Needless to say, this exchange of pleasantries was short and simple.  He continued to wait in line while I used my plastic fork to make sure my broccoli, melted cheddar, and baked potato fit the standard consistency required by any spud that dare grace the mouth of Jehad Abbed.  Without interrupting this process, I caught the voice of an elderly man beside me announcing to himself, "I guess I am just going to sit by this guy."  "this guy," refers to yours truly.  He sits down beside me wearing a light blue pair of jeans that is covered with the proof of a hard week's work.  The man was also sporting a flannel jacket that was clearly able to endure a vast amount of Arby's Barbecue beef.  That it did.  He topped himself with a tan colored hat that read, "just another crappie day."  Without a physical visual aid, one may not realize this is a fishing reference.  Crappie.  A type of fish.  Anyway, he sits down.  I enjoy the unexpected company.  My approval of his presence became apparent when Grant walked around the corner with his meal along with a simultaneous chuckle between the two of us.  The old man was nice enough to leave his seat and grab some napkins for our newly formed club.  The top napkin was spotted with BBQ sauce.  He opened with an observation of how pleasant the weather was.  Definitely an agreeable statement.  He asked us if we were attending college and pointed out that we do not have very far to walk at all.  He told us we better stick with it.  He said, "I've been a dumbass all my life, and I will probably die a dumbass."  This is a brutal way to speak of one's self, but humorous given the situation.  He said that he had learned a lot over his time because he did not go to school.  Contradicting?  I asked him if he thought it made him wiser.  He replied, "No, it made me Money-er."  He went on about his assets including twenty-one houses.  Probably mansions.  He left and said, "well boys, thanks and good luck."  Grant looks at me and says," only us."  Dropping out of school will only make me "Money-er."   Sounds like a plan.