There was a robbery in Chicago. I was the victim. Don't know how it went down, or who the clever bastard was that did it. All I know is that I was drunk, the night was great, and that somehow I woke up the following morning without my ATM card and my account basically wiped out. From my calculations, I have travelled somewhere around 4,100 miles. I have drank 43 Jack on the rocks. Smoked 17 packs of Lucky Strikes. Fooled around with five different woman. Travelled to 17 States so far. Now, with barely any money left I need to decide what is next.
Throughout my life I have always been met by forks in the road. And the sign posted next to the divide always reminds me that, to the left, is clear skies ahead. No potholes. No troubles. The easy way home. And to the right, you will be led down a path that is filled with unknown hazards. The road will be rough. It will be dangerous. And there can be no guarantees at this time. For most of my life, I have veered right. And the results have always been mixed. I am at this fork once again. A decision needs to be made. Continue on with little money towards Seattle, or head east toward Pittsburgh and home. Going to need to get a drink and mull this one over for a bit. Stay tuned.
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