He'd saved up three thousand dollars in the last year
And that was after paying off every debt he'd had
That would be enough to get him out of here
Here, this place, this crowded charmless hellhole
The place he would call home for the last time
His youth was wasted here, he told himself once again
Determined now not to waste his adult years
No more time to waste
Watching wasted friends wasting away
He was not the dreamer that so many accused him of being
He was not a schemer that even more accused him of being
He was a planner
An astute, meticulous, careful planner
He wasn't making a rash decision, not acting on impulse
Research had been done, preparations made
It had all been written out, and then what was written
Was rehearsed
Dry runs were made
Walk throughs in slow motion
It was now, there would be no never
And so he loaded up the last of his luggage into the trunk
Climbed in behind the wheel and buckled up
Safety first
Driving through the neighborhood for the last time
Reinforcing his decision to leave
The overgrown yards littered with car parts
The homeless junkies pushing shopping carts
Trash blown up against falling down chain-link fences
Like Hippies trying to crash Woodstock in '69
The usual collection of regulars
Smoking on the small patio outside the bar
Someone he knew waved at him and he instinctively honked
Last time he would do that he told himself
Soon he was on the interstate heading south
He smiled to himself as he drove with the windows down
In two days he would be as far away from the hellhole
As he had ever been
Far away in miles and even further away in his head
He worked hard for this, he prepared hard for this
And soon he would be living the life he'd always wanted
At the Fernwood Institute for Creative Sandwich Wizardry
Eddie Arana, Rick Thibodeau, & Chris Bakunas San Diego, Ca. March 2012
Eddie Arana, Rick Thibodeau, & Chris Bakunas at Luche Libre Taco Shop in San Diego, March 2012
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