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上世纪九十年代,林与我一起从一所师范院校毕业,一起回家乡一所乡镇中学任教,一起吃住于一间13平米的蜗室。时光荏苒,两年过去了,我俩都还是工资常被拖欠一无所有的穷教书匠。林常常在饭桌上一边“叭叭”啜饮烧酒,一边把萝卜干咬得嘎嘣响,然后就是一通牢骚:“我说书呆子,凭咱俩的经天纬地之才,在这个山旮旯里弄个一官半职根本算不了一档子事,有了权,就会有钱。可咱就这么安心地把孩子王当到底,那要到猴年马月才能混出个人样来?”我无言以对。他只好摇摇头,继续喝他的闷酒。
In the nineties of the last century, Lin and I graduated together from a normal university and returned home to a township high school for teaching together in a 13-square-meter spiral chamber. Time flies, two years have passed, and both of us are still poor teachers who are often owed nothing. Lin often sips on the dinner table while sipping shochu and sips the dried radish and then grumbles: “I say a bookworm, by our latitude and longitude, get in this mountain Officials can not count on a list of official jobs, with the right, there will be money. But why are we so reassuring children that the King should be in the end, it is not until the year of the monkey to mix a sample? ”" I am speechless . He had to shook his head and continued to drink his stuffy wine.