Me on Travel

Hibachi on my fake Birthday. In the foreground, notice the chains I wasn’t supposed to cross.

Long drives, less than impressive landscapes, and a double queen at a two-star motel in the distance- yeah, I was traveling across the midwest again. Living out of the suitcase wasn’t difficult. I carried my clothing and alcohol in it, so it was actually quite pleasurable. At nine in the morning I was traveling I-44 towards St. Louis and by seven tonight I’d be half-cocked, feeling lucid, and searching the phone book for the swankiest hidden gem of a restaurant in Indianapolis.

This was no vacation, though sometimes it felt like it. It was not a party, though it often turned into one. I wasn’t driving ten hours past dead fields of corn and beans for my own pleasure or enjoyment; this was a business trip. This was just one of many, and I travelled so often that the trips blended together. Some had highlights- pretty girls, police encounters, memorable hangovers. Other than that, it was rather difficult to distinguish one piece of shit city in the midwest from another. (more…)

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