Thursday, November 24, 2011

NaNoWriMo 5

I hit 50,000 words tonight and finished my novel. Those numbers ended up not being very far apart. I guarantee with revision this would end up below 50,000 words, probably well below. This means you get another chapter and this will be the final one that I post here. If for some reason you've enjoyed reading them and would like to read the entire rough draft, I will gladly email it to you. Just leave a comment or let me know some other way and let me know your email, so I can send it to you.

Honestly this chapter is the ending of the story I had planned to right. It's not the end of the book, because I added a plot point, so I could get to 50,000 words. So, here is Chapter 39:

Chapter Thirty Nine

I stood up and followed her into her bedroom. I really didn’t know what she was up to. We had plenty of privacy in the living room too, so I was puzzled. Nothing that had happened that day led me to think that she wanted to have sex again, but I can’t say I didn’t want to. I doubted she had anything special to show me too.

She opened a drawer in her dresser and pulled out a pair of white socks. She sat on the corner of the bed. She smiled up at me.

“I didn’t want you to think I was going to take more pills,” she said, “Also, you’re nice company to have around.”

“I would’ve believed you, if you’d just told me,” I said.

Slipped on the socks and then pulled her red shoes out from under the bed.

“I know you would have,” she said, “I probably would’ve popped one had you not come with me though.”

She slipped the shoes on to her feet and laced them up. She looked up at me again.

“I’d like to keep you around forever,” she said, “but I think it’s time for you to go. I’ve got to get ready for work soon and I’m sure you have a life to return to. I don’t mean to sound like I’m just kicking you out.”

“Ok,” I said, “I’ll leave. It was nice…”

“Not before I walk you out,” she said.

“Ok,” I said breaking into a smile.

“I think you’re probably too shy to ask for it,” she said, “so hand me your phone and I’ll put in my number.”

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and handed it to her. She slid it opened and typed something in it and then handed it back to me. I didn’t really look; I just closed it and put it back into my pocket. She seemed alright with the way I handled that.

“You’d better call me,” she said.

“I will,” I said.

“I’ll hunt you down if you don’t,” she said before starting to laugh.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said.

She stood up and walked out of the room, motioning for me to follow her. She stopped in front of the door and opened the closet there. She pulled out her jacket and slipped it on.

“Not that you brought that much stuff,” she said, “but you’re sure you’re not forgetting anything?”

“I’ve got everything,” I said patting my ass to make sure I still had my wallet.

“Good,” she said.

She opened the door and we walked outside together. It wasn’t all that cold. There was still a little chill in the air, but it was certainly warmer than it had been the day before. It was covered until we got down to the parking lot, so we didn’t need to worry about the rain until then.

We didn’t talk as we walked down the steps side by side. I stopped just before we were about to leave cover and she did the same. She looked at me as if she was wondering why I stopped.

“You don’t have to go into the rain,” I said.

“I want to,” she said.

“It’s cold though,” I said, “I’d rather you didn’t get wet on my behalf. You might get sick.”

“I won’t get sick,” she said, “I’ll shove you out there, if you don’t move soon, though.”

I stepped out and she was right beside. We we’re just a few steps out when the rain picked up in intensity. I walked a little fast as did she. I stopped by the driver’s side door and we faced each other. The rain had already soaked her hair it was dripping down her face. I was soaked as well and was freezing.

She looked up at me. I’m not one who usually picks up on signals, but this time it was pretty clear. She got up on her tippy-toes and I leaned down. We kissed. It was a fervent kiss. Kissing in the rain is one of those romanticized things that people put on their bucket lists. I think most people imagine it being in a summer shower not on some chilly fall afternoon. Still, I suppose it’s something I can claim now.

“I needed to do that,” she said after pulling away from the kiss, “I hope you didn’t mind.”

“Of course not,” I said.

“I don’t know where you want to go from here,” she said, “but it’s on you.”

“Ok,” I said.

“I just don’t want to ever go back to being strangers,” she said, “Just so you know I wouldn’t turn down a date. I don’t want you to be worried about that. Don’t feel obligated to do that though.”

“Alright,” I said.

“I’ll be working a lot this weekend,” she said, “call me next week and we’ll work it out then.”

“I don’t want to become strangers either,” I said, finally finding actual words.

“Good,” she said, “thank you so much for everything.”

“Thank you for being such a nice host,” I said.

“Goodbye, Michael,” she said.

She wrapped her arms around me and held me in an embrace for a while. I put my arms around her too. We had shared so much with each other. That was probably the best hug I’ve ever gotten. I said more than any words could. We finally pulled apart and I pulled my car keys out of my pocket. I unlocked my door.

“Bye, Camille,” I said, “I’m really glad you let me hang out with you.”

She didn’t say anything. She simply smiled at me. She was shivering pretty badly. I shut my car door and started the engine. She waved and then ran for cover. I was freezing too and was willing my car to warm up quickly when I started it. You never realize exactly how wet you are until you’re in a dry place.

I got everything situated and then put the car into the drive. I saw Camille standing under cover. She started waving when she thought I could see her. She was soaked and shivering. I waved back as I pulled past. I watched in the rear view mirror as she nearly sprinted out of sight.


P.S. Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Saturday, November 19, 2011

NaNoWriMo 4

I got to 40,000 words tonight, so that means you have to endure another chapter from my book. This is Chapter 34. It's mostly about a dream. It actually is an exaggerated version of a dream I had not too long ago*. Again, I'll remind that this isn't edited or revised.

Chapter Thirty Four

It wasn’t that long before I knew she had fallen asleep. I didn’t want to move, because I was afraid that I would disturb her. It wasn’t that terrible of a position or anything. It was a little weird for me though. I’ve never slept naked before and certainly not naked with another person.

My mind wouldn’t shut up either. I would shut my eyes and try to sleep, but I couldn’t stop thinking about what had already happened that night and what was going to happen next. I was afraid that I had taken advantage of her, which is kind of absurd given the way the night had played out. I kept thinking she would probably hate me when we woke up. There was also another voice in my head telling my how absurd my anxieties were, but it didn’t succeed in getting rid of them.

It was probably an hour before my fatigue overcame my anxiety. I managed to actually fall asleep after closing my eyes. I like sleep. It is like a fast forward button. It always seems like no time has elapsed and you’ve just jumped forward in time.

It’s weird how you can’t fall asleep, if you’re really excited about something or really dreading it. It seems like you really should be able to force yourself to sleep if you’re looking forward to something, because it would make that thing closer. If you’re dreading something coming up, you probably shouldn’t sleep, so it doesn’t come up so quickly. Though, you may want to sleep just to get it over with.

Of course, the entire feeling like no time elapses thing is changed by having a dream you can remember. It still feels like you’ve leapt forward however long you’ve slept, but you still know time actually happened because you experienced it in the dream.

I don’t really have dreams that I can remember that often. I know that I have them, but they are usually easily forgotten. I will have one that’s vivid enough that’ll remember it on occasion. They’re usually pretty strange. The hallmark of my dreams is changing characters. I often will be with someone in my dream and who that person is will just change. It’s never dramatic or anything, it’s just someone turns into someone else.

Stress usually isn’t a trigger for dreams for me. I don’t really know what triggers a dream that I’ll remember. It may be loneliness or longing, but I can’t be sure. I just know that usually when I’m most anxious my sleep is pretty peaceful; the little bit of it I get that is.

I did have a dream that night though. It was unusual as dreams are. It was just Camille and I. She was wearing the same clothes she had been wearing the night before, but her red hoodie was missing and she was wearing her red chucks. I didn’t really pay much attention to what I was wearing, but I know I was fully clothed.

We were walking down a dirt road in the middle of nowhere and my presumption is that we were walking home from school; though that was never made clear by the dream. We were just walking; we weren’t holding hand and weren’t particularly close to each other. It was the type of thing that I think doesn’t really exist anymore, but is idealized in fiction about the fifties. On both sides were farm fields. The corn in these fields was very tall; probably taller than corn ever actually gets.

Camille started talking about her Mom. She wasn’t saying the things she had said the night before. She was telling me about the thing her Mom did to annoy her. However, what she was telling me about was the things that my father does to annoy me. It was quite a long list and I was kind of pleased that someone had the same problems as me.

As we were walking down the road, suddenly we were confronted by the Notre Dame marching band. It beats the hell out of me why it was the Notre Dame marching band. They were definitely playing the Notre Dame fight song, which I think is the best in college football. I mean, there’s Michigan’s, but when you live here you’re allowed to ignore that.

We had to get out of there way, so we ran off the road. The road was sort of elevated, so we had to run down the slope into the ditch. The corn seemed even taller down there. She was right next to me as the marching band went started to go by on the road. She grabbed a hold of my hand kind of tightly. That made me feel all funny on the inside, which is weird considering we had done more than hold hands the night before.

It seemed never ending; they just kept coming and kept playing that song. She stayed right next to me seeming transfixed on what was happening on the road. Then, some tuba player stopped playing and looked over at us as he walked by. It didn’t seem like a big deal to me. However, she took off into the field of corn behind us. I watched the guy who was looking at us walk past and then start playing again before I took off after her.

I was running through the leaves and stalks. It went on and on and got thicker and thicker. I was beginning to think it was too thick for me to continue, when suddenly I burst through into a clearing. I looked around and saw that it wasn’t anything besides a clearing surrounded by corn fields.

In a lot of my dreams, the girl that stood across the clearing from me wouldn’t be Camille. However, this time it was still her. She had changed outfits though. She was wearing the stripper clothes she had worn at the club the night before. I moved towards her. The heat had suddenly become stifling and the sun seemed even brighter overhead.

I moved towards and began to notice that something wasn’t right. She seemed to be struggling and was rooted to the spot. Also, she didn’t seem to notice me at all. As I got closer, I saw what was holding her. There were two corn stalks holding her feet to the ground; they contrasted with her white stockings. I could also see behind her legs another stalk, which must have been holding her hands behind her back. I started running towards her.

I probably got ten feet from her before I tripped and fell to the ground. I tried to get back up, but couldn’t. I looked up at her. She was still struggling, but was still rooted to the ground. She also still failed to notice me.

Suddenly, behind her something rose from the ground. Once the dust had settled, I saw that it was a walking scarecrow. It was odd in that it was wearing a black suit. It slowly walked towards her. It grabbed her and the plants that had been holding her disappeared. She screamed, but soon seemed to accept as she was dragged back towards the corn fields.

I renewed my struggles to get up, but I still couldn’t. She finally noticed me as she was about to be taken into the corn plants. She didn’t scream for help or anything. She just shook her head as the tears trickled down her cheeks. I caught a final look at her before she disappeared into the corn fields. I was then suddenly free to stand up.

It was very quiet. I stood up and moved towards where I had last seen her. I thought I caught a glimpse of her as I got closer. Then I heard a loud female scream.


*The walking with a girl, avoiding the marching band, and holding hands was the extent of my actual dream

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

NaNoWriMo 3

I hit 30,000 words last night, so you get to tolerate (hopefully) another chapter. This time it's Chapter 21. I had a hard time choosing between this and Chapter 23. I think Chapter 23 is probably more interesting, but is also very similar to Chapter 11, which was in my last post, so I thought I'd give you something a little different. Again, no editing or revision has been done.

Chapter Twenty One

She came back. She didn’t come to the couch to sit by me though. I thought she was about to walk outside. Instead, she opened up her closet by the door. She started taking out a jacket.

“Come on,” she said, “I want to go outside for a little bit.”

I didn’t particularly want to go outside. It had to be even colder now than it had been earlier, but I have that issue with saying no; particularly to women. So, I got up and stood by the door and waited for her to put on her jacket, gloves and hat. I braced myself in just my hoodie and felt the cold air when she opened the door.

I pulled the hood up over head as soon we stepped outside. This hoodie doesn’t have the pocket on the front that most hoodies have so I was just trying to keep my hands covered by my sleeves. That didn’t work out though because she grabbed my left hand. We started walking down the hall holding hands. It felt nice. It made me forget about the cold for a bit.

We stopped walking at the landing of the steps at the end of the hall. It was at the opposite end of where we had walked up when we’d first come up. That seemed like a while ago. The view at the edge of the railing was that of the city’s skyline. She and I stood side by side looking at it.

I always think that things look so much clearer through cold air. I don’t know it’s that’s really true or not. It may just be that my being cold is making my focus more sharp. It was a pretty close view to begin with. It seemed more sharp or intense than I’ve ever seen it before. I suppose it could also be the company I had that was holding my hand as well.

“I think it’s a pretty view,” she said.

“It is,” I said.

I always kind of liked our skyline. It’s not particularly impressive compared to bigger cities. Still, I think it’s a good looking skyline. It’s particularly pretty at night. The way the buildings are lit up is just cool to me. I suppose there’s also some sort of hometown pride in their as well. Not that I’m particularly prideful about this place. I mean, I wouldn’t hesitate to move away should the opportunity present itself. I’m just not desperate to get away or anything.

We stood in silence for a while. I could definitely feel the cold again. She seemed to be enjoying herself so I just dealt with it. I think she was looking kind of whimsically at the skyline.

“What do you think about when you see those buildings?” she asked.

“They symbolize my hometown,” I said, “I’d know that skyline anywhere. They look like that from here, but when you’re actually there you can’t really appreciate them. I mean, they’re impressive you walk beside them, but it’s different when you like at them like this.”

I was really fighting the urge to shiver. It wouldn’t be long until I couldn’t stop myself from doing it. I don’t think I’m particularly wimpy about the cold. I prefer to the heat of summer, but I don’t normally spend extended time outside when it’s hovering near freezing with out my coat. It had been an odd night though and I suppose us standing there looking at the skyline was no different.

“It’s hard to believe things like those could exist when I was at home,” she said, “I knew they did and I knew thing were different in other places. Still, the ways things are there it doesn’t seem like there are people who could build such big things or that there would need to be such big places for people to work at.”

Our perspectives were very different. I had already realized that, but it really crystallized in my mind at that moment. I watched her. I could clearly see her breath as she kept looking at the view. She eventually looked over at me. She smiled when I looked back.

“Alright,” she said, “it’s freezing and I don’t think we’ll run into anybody worth running into out here. Let’s go back to the apartment.

“Ok,” I said.

We walked back to her door. She let go of my door to let us back in, I had really liked holding her hand, but it was nice to have it back. It was so cold it had gotten painful. I covered it with my sleeve and longed for the warmth in her place. We both hurried in once she had the door open.

Being out of the cold was so nice. I put my hood back. My hand, nose and ears all had been so cold. She took off her jacket and things and put them back in the closet. She turned, but sort of stumbled. She ended up grabbing me to keep herself upright. She laughed.

“Whoops,” she said, “I’m not drunk or anything.”

“I trip over my own feet all the time,” I said.

“I’m gonna go make us some more hot chocolate,” she said, “Your nose is so red.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“It’ll be just a minute,” she said, “You can sit back down if you want to.”

I did got and sit back where I had been on the couch. I would be glad to have that warm mug in my hands again. I could hear the microwave buzzing and then the timer went off. Shortly after, she came back carrying two mugs. She handed me one.

“Do you want me to get you a blanket?” she asked.

“No,” I said, “but thank you.”

She sat down beside me. She set her mug down and then unlaced and slipped off her shoes. She sat them neatly on the floor before picking her hot chocolate back up and started sipping along with me.

“I don’t really like the cold,” she said, “but I don’t know if I could live somewhere that didn’t have a real winter.”

“I know I couldn’t,” I said, “Winter is my favorite season.”

“I always have liked the spring,” she said.

“It’s nice the first day you can go out in short sleeves in the spring,” I said.

“I just like the longer days and that things get pretty again,” she said.


Wednesday, November 9, 2011

NaNoWriMo 2

I hit 20,000 words on my NaNoWriMo last night. So that means you all are going to be subjected to another bit of my story. Again, this isn't proof-read, much less edited and revised.

So, a fair bit of warning, this chapter does get kind of a explicit. I don't think it's ridiculously so, but still. Keeping context to a minimum, the "I" character is at Camille's apartment*. She tells him her experience of being a stripper. So, here is Chapter Eleven:

*Final warning about adult content*

Chapter Eleven

“Does your girlfriend know you were at a strip club tonight,” she asked over the running water.

I don’t know if she was trying to flatter me, but she kind of did. Her saying that means she thinks I’m the type of guy a girl would want to be with or at least wanted me to think she thought that. She may have just been curious about my relationship status, but didn’t want to come right out with it, but even that theory has a similar affect on me. I’ve made jokes for years about having an imaginary girlfriend, so I witty answer actually came to me quickly enough for me to use it.

“She’s imaginary,” I said, “so she knows what I want her to know.”

She laughed harder than I had heard her laughing before. You can tell when someone finds something really funny. It’s not that all laughs are insincere, but a lot of the time you can at least compose yourself enough to laugh in a more controlled manner. Her laugh wasn’t annoying or anything it was just different than the way she had giggled before. I was just really glad she had found something I had said funny.

“Do you work, Michael?” she asked.

I hated that question. I’ve found that telling people that I didn’t have job was terribly embarrassing. I mean it wasn’t entirely my fault, but it still sucked. It was even worse considering what she did for a paycheck. I just sat on my ass and collected unemployment, too discouraged to try as hard as I could to look for a job.

“I don’t have a job right now,” I said.

“It kind of sucks right now,” she said, “It’s tough to get a job. What did you do before?”

“I worked in a warehouse,” I said.

I wasn’t going to tell her exactly what warehouse I worked in unless she asked. I worked at the Victoria’s Secret Direct warehouse.

“What did you do?” she asked.

“I worked in Inventory Control,” I said, “so basically I did a lot of counting to check inventory. There was a lot of walking, but that’s about as hard as it got.”

“How did you lose it?” she said.

“I got laid off,” I said.

That was actually a half truth. I mean technically I was laid off, but in reality it was more mutual than that. I could’ve stayed and honestly I should’ve, but I thought they weren’t doing things the right way. They had kept hinting at making me a regular employee, because I had been hired seasonally, but then they said they wanted to keep me through a temp agency. I didn’t agree to be hired by the temp agency, so they had to lay me off.

“That sucks,” she said.

For a bit the only sound was the water running. I felt the need to keep us talking though. I was feeling slightly more comfortable. I was curious about something. I convinced myself to ask.

“What’s it like?” I asked before I started rambling, “I mean at your job. Are people respectful? Are there a lot of jackasses? Do you get used to it?”

I immediately felt like I shouldn’t have said any of that. I was sure my face was in the process of turning red. She was probably going to kick me out or yell at me. I was sure. Instead I heard her sigh. More importantly it didn’t seem like an annoyed sigh. I couldn’t really quite quantify it in my mind.

“The reason I do it is because it pays well;” she said, “at least well enough for me to stay here in relative comfort. It kind of sucks, but some days are better than others. I can’t really say I’ve ever gotten used to it. I’ve gotten to the point where most days I’m not so acutely aware of all the eyes on me when I’m on stage, but other times I feel each and every one of them.

“As for the customers when I’m out on the floor, it really varies. I’d say the most of them are respectful to me. Still, the others will stick out in my mind. There are the dumb fucks who don’t get that they aren’t allowed to touch me. I mean it really sucks having your boob grabbed, but the bouncers make quick work of them. Those aren’t the worse ones though.

“No, it’s the assholes who are verbally abusive and degrading. They say horrible lewd things to me. I can’t get really desensitized to that. I can be really terrible, but I have to force myself not to cry when that’s all I want to do. I just want to go home and cry.”

I looked over my shoulder at her. She had sounded like she was choking up pretty bad. She was looking up and I could see how watery her eyes were behind her glasses. She was blinking a lot; I think she was trying to keep the tears from getting out, but I could see the drops running down her cheeks. She looked right at me.

“That’s really awful,” I s aid before turning back to the dishes, “It sucks that people can be so terrible. And it doesn’t matter if you know they’re just a jackass, it still hurts.”

“Yea,” she said sounding more composed than I expected, “It’s exactly like that. I just can’t really fully associate the hate to the hateful person. I wish I could. The girls that have been around for a while seem pretty hardened to it. They try to give me tips on how to deal with it, but I just don’t know if I could ever be so calloused.

“Probably the worst thing, well not for me personally, but for someone to hear, is the stuff that happens in the V.I.P Rooms. They’re supposed to be just for some quieter, private dances, but I learned quickly that it’s not that simple. It costs someone a lot to get back there. I learned quickly from the other girls that you could make a lot by taking special requests in the rooms and that seems to be the expectation of a lot of the guys who pay for it.

“It’s not uncommon for a guy to want to play with himself in the backroom. They usually offer me some bigger tip, so they can do that. Then there are some weirder things. Like, one guy wanted me to take off my shoes and touch him with my feet. I don’t really mind those requests so much.

“Sometimes though, the requests are for actual sex acts. They also come with a ridiculous tip. I always turn them down and usually they don’t get upset, but if they do all I have to do is yell and the bouncers come in. Actually, one time I did agree. He asked me to just touch his cock for 500 hundred dollars. I agreed, because I was tempted by the cash and I didn’t think it was that awful. Then he said he’d triple it, if I started stroking. I mean that’s more than I can make in two weeks and my hand was already around it, so I just started doing it. I really wish I hadn’t, even though he did give me the cash. There are some lonely rich fuckers out there.

“I really like the bouncers there. They’re really nice guys even if they look intimidating. I think they’re the only reason I can stand to go into that place. I can at least feel secure, because they’re quick to handle things that might get out of control. That’s about it, I guess.”

*This would make slightly more sense had Emma picked Chapter 5 the first time ;p

Saturday, November 5, 2011

NaNoWriMo 1

At the request of one* of you =p I'm posting a little bit of the novel I'm writing for NaNoWriMo. I reached 10,000 words last and I decided that I'll post a little bit each 10,000 words. Keep in mind that this hasn't even been proof-read, much less revised and edited. Also, it's not that good. So with no context whatsoever here is the second chapter of my novel:

Chapter Two

I don’t want to tell my entire life story though. Tha

t would be terribly boring and absolutely pointless. It would be a tale about a man who has never done anything of note. I want to tell about a few nights ago. What happened that night is way more interesting than anything that happened to me before then. It might not even be that interesting, but if I’m going to tell a tale about myself, it wou

ld be this.

It was just a few days ago, but the weather was very different. In the meantime, Indian Summer has kicked in. That night it was quite cold. I don’t mind that though since I much prefer the cold air as winter approaches than the warm air of summer.

It had been a pretty typical day. I went to class, didn’t say much for the hours I was there and then came home. I made myself a meal and then went up to my room. I had spent hours playing Call of Duty. Then there was an unusual occurrence. My ce

ll phone rang.

The ringing isn’t necessarily all that rare, but what is rare is that it wasn’t the annoying ringtone that I had assigned my father. People calling me who aren’t my Dad is so infrequent that I forget what ringtone I gave someone else. Though just knowing that it isn’t him increases the odds of me answering by basically infinity.

It was my friend, Nick. I can’t say I was expecting it to be him. I mean his probably the person I hang out with the most and one of my best friends, he just doesn’t call often. He also fails to call back most of time. I slid open my phone.

“Hello,” I said.

“What’s up, man?” he asked.

“Not too much,” I said, “How are you?”

“Alright, Alright,” he said, “Did you know Pat’s in town?”

“No,” I said

“He is,” he said, “He wants to go out to a strip club. You wanna come?”

In a moment I made the decision to say, “Yes.” I’d never been to one before and I’d really never had any desire to. Still, I wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to

hang out with two of my best friends.

“Cool,” he replied, “Meet us there at like seven.”

“Ok,” I said, “Where the hell is it?”

He told me where and I was surprised by how far out of town it was. It was just off some exit in middle of nowhere. I didn’t go that way very often, bu

t I’m pretty sure that it was one of those exits that has the giant fucking gas stations for truckers and some fast food or some shit.

“That’s pretty damn far isn’t it?” I said.

“Yea,” he said, “but Pat said he’s been there before and he liked it.”

“Alright,” I said, “I’ll be there.”

“See ya, man,” he said.

“Bye,” I said, hanging up the phone.

I immediately felt my usual butterflies that preceded any social interaction. I suppose that were probably worse considering the specter of strange naked women and a new experience. It’s nice though that there was time for me to settle down a bit before having to get ready; though when I did start to get ready, they returned as expected.

I put on the jeans I had worn that day, found a new t-shirt to wear, and threw on my Cleveland Browns hoodie. I probably checked to see if my wallet, cell phone and keys had five times before I finally left the house. I always did that. I could be certain that I had it and still pat my ass to make sure my wallet hadn’t gone missing.

I got into my crappy car, stuck the key in the ignition and turned. It started up fine, but it also came with an annoying whine from the loose belt tensioner

. It’s pretty annoying and embarrassing, but the way Dad likes to rotate cars it’s hardly worth paying to fix.

I went to the bank. It is a bit of an awkward transaction really to go into your bank and ask for a shit ton of ones. There’s no pretending that you’re up to anything else. It’s not like you can say I just need the money, because I really dig vending machi

nes. It’s even worse that all the tellers are women. Whether they give a damn or not, I always feel they’ll see as a guy needs to go to a titty bar.

It’s a weird traffic flow when you have to cross the city during rush hour. You end up finding exactly where the cities center is though, because it’ll go s

moothly as you drive up to that point and then suddenly it will turn to shit when you join the outbound hoards. Eventually though, I got far enough way the heart of the city that it wasn’t shitty. Out of the city, I could see the big farm equipment starting the harvest in the seemingly endless fields on either side of the road.

I eventually got to the exit and as I suspected it was one o

f those trucker’s havens. There were three gas stations, a McDonalds, a Wendy’s, a Cracker Barrel and of course a porn shop. The strip club wasn’t hard to find. They really lack in subtly, those titty bars. There was flashing neon that stood bright against the twilight. They read, “Nude Girls” and “XXX.” I parked, shut off my engine, which mercifully ended that whining noise and sort of braced myself.


*Given my number or readers, one person is actually a si

zable percentage.

And Stats: