Less Than Zero
The night goes on, and apparently the bartender has passed the rumor along, as the other rich, spoiled club kids whisper to each other and speculate as to who Travis's daddy is. If his scarf is any indication, I'm inclined to believe it's Dr. Who. Eventually some guy wanders over and tells Jones that he'd love it if Travis would "do a set," though there was nothing in Oil Derrick's rumor that Travis was musically inclined. Guess it's that "Telephone Game" trick. Later, the three of them stumble of out of the bar laughing. Oil Derrick made up the whole story, of course. He points out that they got free drinks out of it, but Travis whines that he didn't get laid. Perhaps, instead of having your friend tell elaborate lies about you, you might consider bathing and shaving, Travis.
We cut back to some room in a loft or studio apartment where Travis is vaguely fiddling with images of them on television monitors. Oh, he's one of those kinds of artists. The kind who aren't. Jones wanders in and asks him if he slept last night, which I think is a subtle way of asking him if he intends to shower. He says he had "an idea." So I'm guessing that's "no" to both. Jones tells him they're going to be late to class. She leaves the room to escape the scent of eau de Travis and -- good heavens! These guys are living in an airplane hangar! No, seriously. This loft is huge. It's got two floors, and I swear it's the size of my entire apartment building. Jones wanders up the stairs, across a time zone or two, and knocks on Oil Derrick's door to wake him up. As they're leaving, Travis tells Oil Derrick that he'll have the rent soon. Oil Derrick expositions for us that it's his apartment and he gets to make the rules and Travis doesn't have to pay rent. Well, isn't that nice? It's like being on The Real World. Actually, that loft is big enough to host a season of the show.
Unfortunately, unlike Travis, Eric Bogosian must have to pay his own rent, as I see little other explanation for his appearance here as the lecturer for Mass Communications 2155: Pointless Bitching About The Sad State Of Today's Media. Our trio walks in late; Bogosian has already started his lecture. Oh, terrific -- it's a discussion of O.J. coverage. I would have turned right around and walked out to go complain to the custodian about the stench of dead horse coming from the classroom. The discussion focuses on the fact that The New York Times referenced information published in a tabloid magazine in one of its stories "without apology," and Professor Eric wants to know what to make of that. Well, was the information correct? Just because it appeared in a tabloid doesn't automatically make it untrue. Even a broken clock is accurate twice a day. But that doesn't seem to be an important part of this discussion. Rather, it's about the blending of news and entertainment and how it makes it harder to tell what's the truth anymore. He asks a student about her opinion, and she stutters for a moment, so he interrupts her and makes fun of her and suggests that she spends too much time on her hair and not enough time thinking. I would never have taken that crap from a professor when I was in college. My money shouldn't, of course, guarantee me a good grade, but it damn well better guarantee some good manners. I once shouted down a professor who tried to belittle me. And I won. I bet my alma mater is glad to be rid of me.