"A good time happens wherever you want."
     Phil rolled his eyes. "How cold is it?"
      "There's a hotel over there." Culhwch pointed in the direction of the Omni at the Colonnade.
      "Where?"
      "Towards Huebner."
      "I'm not walking half a mile to know how cold it is."
      "Really."
      "Yes. I'll have the diet."
      Culhwch put away the regular soda can and left the diet. Phil took it, and felt the aluminum can freeze to his hand. "Cullen! Man! What the hell! This thing's cold!"
      Phil dropped the can, and waved his cold hand around. When he stuffed it in his coat, he continued yelling at Culhwch. "What are you thinking! Do you want to freeze my hand!"
      Culhwch restrained his smile. "If it's less than thirty-two degrees outside, why keep the cans in an icebox?"
      "How nice! Before giving me anything, make sure that it won't give me frostbite."
      "If you want to unfreeze it, keep it against your nice, warm-oh, wait. Never mind."
      "This isn't funny!"
      "Life is both--"
      "No."
      "Comic and tragic."
      "Stop saying that."
      Culhwch held his arms out as if preaching from the hills. "We have both. The computers took our-your-bill to oblivion, and we're here early so we won't have to idle in the parking garage, walk three miles through translucent neon green glass sky walks, and deal with angry thirty-year-old women. That's the tragedy. The comedy's you freaking out over some very cold soda."
      The computers crashed again. The first time was when the United Services Automobile Association sold its San Antonio office campus to the newly formed Trustees of the University of San Antonio. Along with one of the world's largest office buildings, it got all the furniture, interior landscaping, staff services, and the computers. These computers ran a version of an operating system, created by one the world's larger software firms, which had a reputation for unstable code. For the next ten or so years, the University had done everything in its power to strike the balance between acquiring a more stable system and keeping tuition on the level of a two-year-community college.
      This meant that a lot of bureaucratic work had to be done by hand, with pencil and paper. After calculating the cost of replacing the machines, against that of paying minimum wage to an army of clerks, the University Trustees decided that Phil Tybalt, along with forty-five thousand other students, had to show up between the second and fourteenth of January to make the first payment of their tuition.
      A friend of Phil, Culhwch Esau, calculated the best time to get in line. Thanks to him, Phil was the first person in line. It was early New Year's morning, and both of them could hear the revelers cruising up and down Fredericksburg Expressway and Interstate 10.
      Culhwch brought plenty of sodas, and Phil brought a cooler full of sandwiches and chips. Phil's arms were wrapped around himself. He tried not to look at the man that had deprived him of spending time with his family.
      The trip to Culhwch's house involved harrowing experiences on the Durango, Interstate 37, and US-281 freeways. Phil volunteered, at 11:30 PM, to drive to Culhwch's house near Hildebrand Speedway. The interchange of 281 and Hildebrand was one of many Interchanges of Death involving entering the road via a blind spot on the left.
      Phil wondered if Culhwch had played some part in the computers' crashing. Maybe Culhwch had fun inviting apocalypse, and having Phil witness it because the reactions on people's faces was more entertaining the actual disaster itself.
      He didn't know if he fell asleep, but he did know that he blinked and that four people had joined them. They brought camping equipment, and wished Phil and Culhwch a Happy New Year's.
      The sun rose from behind the administration building, casting a shadow. The windows from the apartment building across the freeway reflected the glare.
      More than a dozen people showed up. Within an hour, the number of people grew past two hundred. Phil stopped counting. The cars would enter the visitors' lot, circle, find out that it was full, and drive a couple hundred yards to the parking garage entrance. The drivers and passengers would then walk those three miles of skywalks to the exterior exit, just next to the administration building. The lines stretched into the tunnels. Phil didn't want to think about how the lines would self-organize in the skywalks. Culhwch whispered to Phil, "Just as I calculated. By this time tomorrow, there'll be four thousand people. Lost, waiting, camping, crying, cursing, somewhere--in the skywalks."
      "Will you!-"
      Culhwch stood up and pretended to stretch, while staring at the freeway.

      Culhwch thought that if time was flying by, due to aging, then the solution was to find long, almost boring activities that one could mock. Waiting in line, but being the first in that line, fit Culhwch's idea of a long, memorable event. He wished that the school had required that all the students pay their bill on the same day. Phil noticed a long, Steve Tyler-sized smile on Culhwch's face.

      Phil focused his thoughts on how exactly he got it into his head that Culhwch had good ideas. Most of them made no sense, and worked only half the time. Some, like this little stunt, worked by what Phil referred to as "brute force". They worked only because they had to work. Culhwch would leave no choice. Who, in their right mind, would show up thirty-six hours early to pay a bill? On a holiday?

      Culhwch interrupted Phil's thoughts. "The natives grow restless."
      Phil stared out over the crowd. The lined had become mashed together. The only way he could tell that there was a line was that people faced in a certain direction, face to back, and so forth. As long as the crowd was passive, Phil felt safe.
      The sun traveled behind the building. Phil knew that there had to be a thousand people in the skywalks. One thousand people times an average of one hundred seventy pounds per person equaled strained beams. Phil turned to Culhwch. "Remember that Construction class?"
      "There were two of them. Why?"
      "Didn't you learn about, you know, bending beams?"
      "Bending beams?"
      "Yeah, you know. Where so much weight's put on a beam, and it snaps?"
      "Failure due to bending, versus shear?"
      "Uh, is that what it's called? How much do you remember?"
      "Not the formulas, but I know where I could find charts."
      "OK. Could you answer a question anyway?"
      "Maybe."
      "How many people can a skywalk hold?"
      "Hold?"
      "Yeah, without breaking?"
      "The skywalk isn't going to break."
      "Oh."
      Phil felt relieved. The day had been too strange for death to join in.
      "Which one?"
      "What?"
      "Which skywalk worried you most?"
      "Oh, I don't know. I guess...the one that doesn't have a lot of support underneath it."
      "The longest one?"
      "Yeah?"
      "Don't know. When putting limits on how many people should be in one place, I usually start with HVAC."
      "OK."
      "Skywalks are circulation corridors. I think the minimum air-change needed is about 50 cubic feet per minute per person. Not too sure, though."
      "So...?"
      Culhwch sighed. "Well...longest skywalk is fifteen-hundred feet long. I think they average twenty feet in width and height. So, four hundred square feet times fifteen-hundred equals...six...sixty...plus four zeroes...six-hundred thousand cubic feet. Divide by fifty...twelve...twelve thousand. I guess I would put no more than twelve-thousand people in there."
      He made close eye contact with Phil. "Don't worry. Maybe half that are in the entire network. I don't think that there are even twelve thousand parking spaces in all of the garages. They are not going to suffocate..."
      "Uh, that's nice."
      Culhwch smiled. "If I thought they were going to die, I would have brought my camera."
      Phil raised his hands and stepped away. "You're sick! You're seriously mental!"
      A voice called out. "Of course! Se7en is one of Cullen's favorite comedy movies!"
      Culhwch didn't look at the sound source.
      "Cullen!"
      Phil saw a beacon of sanity. Helena Garza. She had arrived with Nell Stanley and Zaid Tran. Helen smirked. "Remember our little film-fest? He brought Se7en, Hannibal, Akira, and Thesis."
      Phil had trouble hiding his pleasure. "How did you three find us!"
      Zaid responded, "Somebody had to use common sense! Cullen didn't! He called up Nell, told her his great idea to freeze his ass off! Nell said Hell No, and told me at last night's party about how the two of you were really here."
      Nell turned to Zaid. "I didn't say like that. Culhwch did call me, but I had already made plans."
      Phil smiled and looked at Culhwch. Culhwch rolled his eyes. Phil's smile grew. He made eye contact with Zaid. "How nice to see you this evening."
      Zaid shivered. "Whatever. I'm cold. Honored, too. We're friends, right?"
      "The five of us? Yeah."
      "So you'll let us join you."
      "Uh..."
      Nell smiled. "'Uh' means yes."
      Culhwch chuckled, because Nell had stomped on Phil again, in ways that never bored him. He kept chuckling as the other four just stared at him. He stopped when they looked at Helen, when she asked, "So...when did you get here?"
      Phil replied, "Last year."
      Culhwch added, "Best way to be first in line!"
      Zaid furrowed her brow. "How much did it cost? Sleep? Good food? A creaky back?"
      "I think I can handle it. I'm an architecture student, ergo, invincible."
      "You're still human."
      Helen whispered to Nell, "Only she thinks so."
      Culhwch rolled his eyes. "Why're you so concerned?"
      "Because...y'all're stupid and act like your mom's never taught you how to think straight."
      "Really."
      Nell spoke triumphantly, "You can't conquer Culhwch, and even if you could, why?" She smiled right at Culhwch. He nodded back at her.
      Phil asked the women, "Why are you here? Now? The school doesn't open for another thirteen hours."
      Helen spoke quietly, "We wanted a parking space. By now there's none."
      "You...so, where did you park?"
      "At the very end of the parking garage, three miles back."
      "You took the last spot?"
      "Yep."
      Culhwch said, "Sounds Evil."
      "More like painful. I guess maybe you guys had the worst experience but..."
      "Evil's better."
      Helen raised her voice, "Stop being so damn immature! Grow up!"
      "No, think about it. Evil delivers more consistent results than pain."
      Zaid resumed, pretending that she didn't hear what Culhwch had said, "Yeah, so spending our time, idling on the access road, didn't sound like a good idea."
      Culhwch mocked her. "Alack! She hath spoken the truth!"
      "Shut up! What's with your attitude? Why are you talking so much?"
      Culhwch shouted, "Look! The sun is setting on the first day of the new year! Like a red rubber ball!"
      Everyone looked at Culhwch. Phil could be aghast for the rest of his life. "Are you tripping? You can't see the sun!"
      "Doesn't mean that it's not there," defended Nell.
      "Why are you supporting him!"
      "Because he's my friend and he's correct."
      Zaid muttered, "I don't see no damn ball."
      Helen shook her head. "Zaid...don't...even try."

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