Thin, rosey colored cloudlets on a Perfect Yucatecco morning transported me back to college and a thin girl named Rosie.  The birds were magical and I started singing the zepplin song about her.  "oh Rosieee< oh girl, Oh rosey , oh gurl"  Alas, Rosie's heart was set on the Captain and Founder of the club, a dynamic, Gangly giant of a man.  Jimmy Stewart if he was a drunken lout with no class. His favorite phrase at practice was, "What are ya? A bunch of Pussies?"  I loved talking to her, everything was interesting about her, but it was never to be.  This was before I spent the summer running home from work and I was stiull finding my style.  And boy did I find my style that summer. 
     She was Jeff Terrie's girlfriend, a thin brown haired, doe-eyed country girl.  She would pull up next to me as I was running home and offer me a ride.  We would pull off the road and get high and do some back seat yoga in her compact car asa the Allman Brothers played on the cassette.  Nothing beats a dark country night with someone elses girl.  On the hood of her car with the crickets so loud. At work in the dark room on the floor.  That's what he gets for trying to beat me up when I was the new kid at school and didn't know how to fight a lick. 
     That was before I was a hulking brute, before the growth-spurt that had people at Community College of Philadelphia calling me big guy.  I was scrawny in high school and wrestled at 125 pounds without cutting weight.  I put some inches on in every direction and for a year I thought people calling me "big guy"  were actually calling me fat so I did 500 crunches a day and "curls for girls" like by the wrestling coach would say.  One day I was invited to play Rugby by  a colleague of my Dad's at the college.
     I was a little pudgy my first year at college, but running home from work every night was fresh and clean and as the summer progressed I found longer routes to run home to make up for the nights I missed doing my karma fucking.