During my move across the hall to live with Lane for the summer, Manda and I discussed the peculiarity that is Paquin Tower.
For you non-CoMoers, Paquin Towers is a 15 story apartment building right next to U-Place. As far as we can tell, only mentally and physically handicapables live there. The formula for a typical resident is pretty simple: morbidly obese, riding a jazzy (often with a boom-box tucked underneath), and with a very small lapdog in tow. This fat-jazzy-lil’-dog prototype begs the question: when someone moves into Paquin Towers, do they automatically get a small dog?
“Hello. Welcome to Paquin Towers. Here are your mailbox key, bedsheets, and a small dog to serve as a foil to your enormous, bloated, handicapped body.”
One time Alan and Bianca took pictures of all the gas stations in Rolla and put them in a photo album. Manda and I are scheming right now to set up shop on the adjacent parking garage and dutifully document this handicapped person-dog phenom.
I love the summer.