flickers of a flashback

So I woke up today with a haze of the past clinging to the threads of my mind, so to speak. I dont think I ever blogged much about it because it used to be a rather dull lifeless story for me. But time adds animation and depth and with that begins my flashback. For reasons to be dealt with in another memory, I began college when I was 16. With the help of the government I was paying my own way and so in order to conserve money I started out at the community college near a large university. For a couple of quarters I commuted from my parents house in the countryside (roads with no painted lines) to the big college town (painted lines with traffic lights). After a few quarters of that endless loop, I decided to move into the Big City. I found out that at the time the University had a deal with the community college which let "out of towners" (mostly international students) live in their senior apartment-dorms. This brings us to the main point of the flash back, my first room mates. I knocked on the door, holding a small bag of things. A flamboyant man named Manny flung open the door and burst out with a torrent of words, "oh! you must be the new roommate! oh! are you The International guy? oh wow like, welcome to america! oh do you speak English? well, any case come on in, welcome to the castle!" Or something of the sort. I dont remember his major and I dont even really remember having much of a conversation with him. Mostly a torrent of bubbly one way words, I think he felt so old to me at the time even though he was younger than I am now. The other roommate felt even older. His name was Eric, he was a quiet math major. He affiliated himself on the opposite side of Manny's rainbow. Even so, they would sing mundane songs to eachother as if they were locked in some kind of everyday musical. "Giive meee thee remote con-troool!" "Wouldja miiind, wouldja miiind, bringin' me-a fork?" What I remember most about Eric though was on my first day watching TV in the living room. Suddenly he looked over and said, "You look pretty young, man. How old are you??" I mumbled something, turned a bit red. He laughed, swore, drank some more beer and asked me again. I mumbled again and got up and went to my room. He followed me and said, "Come on man, how old are you??" and with nowhere to go I crawled under the desk in my room. He was laughing and swearing, his beer still in his hand. "What are you 12 or something?" I gave in, "16" He kept laughing on his way back to the living room. I heard him tell the TV "Daamn, they let anybody into college these days."