So we're sitting here at this table. Waiting for the Black Solidarity Day march to start.
We're a little high... Well. Yea.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiav6pr1_DpZhYa7HzHnXdCIJplS8rahPgSqW3Jvki0OlJHQGSACCucESw0fdhOUjs3zsDVK5rNVcqYXYs1vwvWz7DWIS2LAMRRthXMnOMFOFs59QFvx9rybhTL1HM8I_AlGdCRz-Px/s320/marley!.JPG)
This guy walks over to the table with some wings from a vendor in the school cafe. He sits down at the table in front of us... he's actually sitting there now. Still. On the phone.
And I guess Marley was insulted.
"Oh, so he just gon' come over here with that oppressed-bought food?!"
*I died*
I'm still weak.
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