I was 21.

XV.
I was just out of college and working at the worst. job. ever. It was a design firm, which was basically run by five assholes, who would keep hiring eight or nine non-assholes to help with the workload, drive them off, and then repeat the process.

(How bad were they? Well, I was the only non-asshole who didn't either start smoking, re-start smoking, or double the packs-a-day consumed. I did go outside with them for smoke-breaks, though. It was the only way to survive the day.)

Nicole, one of the other non-assholes, was standing by my desk. Conversational, holding a cup of coffee. In about forty seconds, one of the assholes was going to come over and accuse us both of not working, but until then we could chat.

Ohhh, you're 21? she said. You have to do everything while you're 21. That way, if it turns out to be stupid, you have a built-in excuse: 'I was 21!'. But what happens is, you have the most fun then.

Somehow this germinated into the idea to take a Greyhound bus across the country. My parents wanted me to visit, I had vacation time, and I couldn't afford a lot of airfare. I bought the ticket, I planned (loosely) my itinerary. I'd sleep on the bus, walk around a lot, and ... well, surely I'd figure out some way to shower...

Thursday 07 February, 03:36 PM