Word: kiosks
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...stupid crime is that the media learns to love you. I would become the darling of the Boston Globe, my hometown newspaper the Monitor, and every supermarket tabloid in existence. The Crimson would practically circulate around me for at least a semester. Headlines would range from, "Psycho Senior Holds Kiosk Roast" to "Rodriguez protests, 'I'm Still Not Sorry!" to "Hewitt Visits Harvard in Anti-Arson Platform." Editorial letters that either give shame to my very existence or staunchly fight for my rights to burn would run nonstop. Gradually, a cult following would be built around me. The members would...
...wait! I thought again. I'll go another step further. I'll light the whole kiosk on fire...
...imagine for a second, just a brief fleeting moment of fancy, what would have happened, had my lighter and I sent that infernal kiosk into a blaze of glory...
Busted. Anyone stupid enough to set a kiosk on fire would undoubtedly be caught. Even if I wasn't actually sighted lighting the thing up, with my luck, my scarf would catch fire as I would be trying to run away from the scene of the crime. In addition, all of my closest friends, my favorite TF's, my mother, my grandmother and my hairstylist would be coming out of Grafton Street just in time to see me and scream, "Hey, Sarah! Why's your scarf on fire...
Boarded. After getting inevitably caught, I would be dragged in front of the Ad Board. I would then have to suffer through a mixture, furious glares from people screaming, "How dare you destroy Harvard property!," uncontrollable giggles from people snickering, "How stupid could you be to set a kiosk on fire?" and rampant rage from people hollering, "How can you hate Jennifer Love Hewitt...