It's like where Jesus would stay if he had to get off blow.

I drove illegally to and from Victoria today. It was beautiful outside, mildly wet, and in between checking the rear-view for coppers and switching cd's every 5 songs, I watched the trees flicker by the window like pastel flames. Cruised into the city around 11:30, found the library after much backtracking, and printed off resumes. Then I walked around in the cold with my stolen jacket zipped right up to my chin wandering into businesses that I could stand to work in and pretending I really wanted to become an 'enthusiastic member' of their team. Just after shaking the managers hand in the Gap and being visually molested by skinny jeans and the Red campaign, I ran into who else but Fat Nosed Jew!! And....Shawn I think his name is. I can't remember. Got the Jew's number, and as I'm walking out of the Gap, I see a lone stranger leaning and smoking against a light post. The glasses! It was Kyle B! Wow, three friends in another city in one day. Good times. Driving home, the sun elbowed its way through the clouds and I started to feel a little better about my lack of license, my maxed-out Visa, my favourite pants that I ripped, and a certain boy. It was like I was washing it all away onto the highway behind me, ready to start anew and slowly build another wall of shit and problems that I will eventually move away from again. Two minutes inside the door at home my phone rang. A man, mumbling his words a bit so I had to ask him to repeat himself. "It's Frank Schmidt from the Starbucks in Victoria, we'd like to offer you a job." Jesus, they must be desperate.