Note: Rated "M" for brief Lime moment in the third paragraph

"Tom! We're ready for you," called the M.C.
"I'll be right there."
I stood in the small backstage area, tuning the nylon strings on my guitar. I have been playing this one for more than 15 years. It looks badly out of shape, but there's still a lot of action left in it. The anxious crowd started to stamp their feet. The lights started to dim. I took a deep breath, and pinched myself to stay awake. It was my first gig in three months, the hiatus was due to the fact that I was studying for the upcoming final exams up at Columbia University.
At last, I took a step forward onto the darkened stage of The Bitter End, sat down on a stool, and began to play. Some people saw my act before and pulled out tape recorders with blank cassettes all cued up for recording. The song "Last Night I Had the Strangest Dream" always kept the crowds coming back, and that's exactly what I played that night.
The hat was passed 'round the place, and after a few more songs, I called it a night. The Bitter End was closing up as I walked out onto Bleecker Street. I took a walk around the Village, past my Parents' house (they still live there-I can drop by whenever I feel like it), and up to the subway station at West 4th street.

It was just about midnight when I walked onto the upper platform for the 8th avenue line. The A train was beginning its local service. I wanted to get home quickly, so I walked downstairs to the 6th avenue line's platform, boarded a D train, and took a nap on a window seat. Soon, I woke up to the loud screeching noises as the train made a curve onto 8th avenue, and stopped at 59th street. I got off and walked up the stairs to a 1 train. I saw my girlfriend, Pamaula, sitting next to an empty spot.
"Hi, Tom," she said, "I didn't think you were out this late!"
I showed her my sleepy eyes and picked up my guitar case.
"You played a show, huh? Too bad I missed it. Where was it?"
I said slowly, "The Bitter End down on Bleecker. It's sorta near the old den."
"I was duking it out down at Coney Island," The train stopped at a station, "Are you looking forward for the final exams on Friday?"
"Am I?" I yawned, "Yeah, for the past three months."
"You bug!" she said, rubbing my cheek.
I had some energy to play some guitar through the next few stops, but they don't allow guitar playing on the train. So Pam just rest her head on my shoulder. Long black hair is tickleish.
I faced the train doors for the next few stations.
96th street-If I was on the 2 or 3 I'd be lost after this.
103rd street-I don't know of any good place there. At this point Pam started to fall asleep.
110th street-There's this small bookstore nearby where I like to pop into.
116th street-Columbia University. This is us.

I grabbed my guitar case, woke up Pam, and we walked up the stairs to the front gates of the campus. We head inside and walked a bit north to where everybody's dorms were. We boarded an elevator.
"Is it okay if we can make out tonight?" said Pamaula, "I've been waiting to loose my virginity for a long time now."
"Okay," I said, "As long as if my roommate is still out."
Jerry perfers rock music over folk music, so it's very unlikely that we'll perform together under as 'Tom and Jerry'.
Anyway, Jerry was still out. That's very common around here. I got onto the bed and took my clothes off, while Pam inserted a sponge from her pocket. She dimmed the lights, got into the bed with me, and we collided. It's very common for her to pause and ask me somthing. Indeed, she paused.
"Do you have any fears when it comes to making out?"
I took a moment to think, then I piped up: "Well there's anthros and furries."
"Like the ones of Furrafinity or DeviantART?"
"I guess so."
We continued, but I was so tired that when it 'went in', it went in very slow, but it was slow enough for Pam's virginity to go away. She kissed me, threw away the sponge, and left. I switched on my pajamas and assumed a normal position on the bed. Man, I wanted some sleep. But it didn't end there...
Jerry burst in without knocking.
"Guess who's DRUNNNNNNNNNNNNNKKKKKKKKK!" he bellowed.
I groaned, and pretended not to noticed. He flopped onto the bed. He does that every other night, and I think it's hurting his chances of acing the exams.

I woke up the next morning. Jerry was hung over and still asleep. So I quietly sneaked out with a couple of books in hand to get a quick once-over before the big exam came. Then I went back in to get dressed (Jerry was still asleep) and ran out to the lecture hall. Breakfast will have to wait. Along with several colleagues, I was the first one there. I sat down and recieved the envelopes and pencils. I really hoped the three months of studying really paid off.
After I finished, I turned in the paper and I was dismissed. I had the rest of the day to goof around. I went over to the Amsterdam Ave entrance to get some breakfast at Hamilton's. I ran into Pamaula again, (Man, does that girl get around!) and we sat down. She had a semi-bad look on her face.
"Tom," she said, "I don't think we should see each other anymore."
I almost choked on my turkey sandwich.
"What for?" I asked, "Is it my fear of animal seduction? Do you not like my music? Did I get you pregnant?"
"It's not you. It's me."
"What did you do?"
"You're such a sweet guy, but my parents have gigantic doubts about you."
"Like what?"
"Well, they never liked folk musicians..."
Again, I almost choked.
"...and they don't want me DATING folk musicians. They don't even care if you're a sweet guy, which you are, but Greenwich Village is not their type."
This time I choked, and squealed "WOW!".
"So will you be okay without me?"
I took a moment to think about it.
"I guess so. I'm planning to move out of town if I ever get out of college."
"I'm sorry about this."
"Me too."
I gave Pamaula a hug and we parted.

I really was planning to get out. Actually, I had yet to find a spot to call home. I took a 1 train down to 14th street, and an L train two stops over to 3rd avenue. I walked up a few blocks to the travel agency, and started to peruse the shelves full of brochures.
I was thinking of a nice spot in California, where the surf was high and I could get a lot of relaxation, and maybe find a recording studio. Maybe somewhere near Los Angeles. I browsed the California brochures for a good town.
There were so many good choices, and I couldn't decide, so I decided to use the process of elemination. I put eight candidate brochures on a nearby table, and split them into two groups. I flipped a coin: Heads for the first group, tails for the second.
After the second toss, I was left with the final two choices, and they were pretty nice and affordable at that: Santa Monica, and this place called Rodneytown. I flipped the coin. Heads. So Rodneytown it was.

I took the same subway route back to the campus. Jerry was finally sober and reading a book.
"Jerry? I need to get all my stuff together," I pulled up some boxes I found one day at a recycling center.
"You're leaving already?" he said, confused, "We got like one more day left here!"
"I never said I was leaving today, but I'm considering of moving to California."
Jerry didn't say anything, but went back to his book. I took a vertical cart from the hallway, and stacked some boxes onto it. I walked the cart onto the subway, and dropped off the boxes at my place near Bleacker. I did this two more times for the remaining few boxes, and then I was ready for moving.

At the library, I sat down at a computer and Google searched "rodneytown apartments". Indeed, there were many choices available. The cheapest one out there was, ironiclly, a seemingly good place based on the pictures.
I printed the page and dialed the number at a nearby phone booth.
"Hello? Cheapo Real Estate? This is Thomas Fay, and I am intrested in leasing an apartment in Rodneytown. Yeah, New York City. Really? Great! Thanks!"

Back at the dorm, Jerry sat there reading the brochure.
"Well, this is it!" I exclaimed, "Everything's all set, I got a place booked, and I'm leaving the minute I'm set free!"
"Rodneytown?" asked Jerry, "Why not St. Louis or Miami?"
"Oh, come on! This place is on the southern border of the LA County! You know, Hollywood! Griffith Observatory! MALIBU!"
"Well, it's no Amity Park."
"Where's that?"
"Northern LA, but trust me, you don't wanna go there."
"Why not?"
"Ghosts."
"Oh, pshaw, like there is such a thing."
"Okay...Chicago!"
"It wouldn't be that long of a journey. The moving truck is said to be passing there, though."
"Well, your call," Jerry opened up a newspaper, "If you don't like any of those places, you can move back to New York."
"Okay. What about you?"
"I'll be going back down to my folks at New Orleans."
"What's it like down there?"
"It's summer all year long."
"...Yeah."
"And you're NOT invited."

Then he stood up and took the cart I was using.
"Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get MY stuff now."
"Audios, Jerry," I said, and sat down on the futon.
The futon was property of the University.
Tomorrow's the last day. I had a big life ahead of me.
I already got my grade back. It was an A.