As the title says, I haven't been able to make the quota on alcoholic beverages. However, I have had some time to think sober. I've been struggling to find an apartment lately, so, having a single beer with a friend of mine five days ago,we began discussing what life would be like constantly on the road. This isn't some Kerouac-esque fantasy where the increase in awesome is directly governed by the wine inhaled (although it could be). What I imagine is many days spent shambling from coffee shop to coffee shop, camping out in Wal-Mart parking lots, irritated relationships and a whole lot of back ache.
A bit of me gets stuck up with the idea of drinking and driving (as it should), so that's where it comes in that alcohol consumption would be limited to the times of the day in with movement is made only by foot or by sleep. Here's how I imagine a day to go while living on the road:
I wake up to the sound of a diesel engine callously working its way into my hungover head, the dream I was having of two turtles fighting with samurai swords slowly replaced with that guttural, mechanical growl as the trucker next to me wakes up to start off his day driving for the next fourteen hours. I'm at a state highway rest stop, doors locked tight with clothes dangling from the windows to keep the light out and the potential killers sight from coming in. The seat pops up with little effort on my part, my shifting weight knocking an empty wine bottle onto the level that controls the incline of the seat. Up I go and the blood rush from my head spins me awake into a terrifying reality that constantly falls in on itself.
I toss the bottle to the back and pull my dirty laundry from the windows. Sunlight floods in and I see the exhaust and tail end of the trailer the trucker that woke me is hauling. It'll be a good day, starting at 7 A.M. The suns on the rise, I've just been paid for my freelance work and the rent is as cheap as the gas I can afford. I unlock the doors and head into the rest stop bathroom, pull out some paper towels and begin to wet and wipe the grease from my face. The moment of truth comes that will set my attitude for the next few hours; the mirror.
Oh I'd continue this, but I have beer to brew.
