I wake up, my dreams lost in the frantic search for my cheap Nokia working to disturb the whole house. Of all the features this phone does not have, I only miss the option to turn down the alarm volume. Only when successful, I open one eye to double-check that I’m not pressing the “TURN OFF” button as I ram the snooze. Too often has that gone wrong.
A couple more of these later, I roll myself out of bed and hear the rain. I stand and stare out in space while my brain submerges from its sleeping state, and the need to hurry it up becomes obvious. I reach out and grab my pants, the coarse material scratching over the bruises from the day before, accidents laughed away and only remembered by my shins.
Perhaps I should have taken the time to shower last night. I compensate with excessive amounts of deodorant and collect my gear.
I got my theoretical drivers’ license, boosting me up halfway into mediocrity transportation-wise. It’s 45% for work, 45% for crossing the US, and 10% for paying back the endless patience my friends have had with me.
It was long overdue, and not because I’m nearing 30 and you think I should be able to drive by now, but because I’ve missed some golden opportunities in the recent past, chances I will never get again, because I couldn’t drive. My last job as a technician went something like this:
“Oh, hey. Listen… The set is collected in my garage, but it will need to be transported to Bruges in the morning. I can’t make it until the afternoon and neither can the director, would you be willing to come pick it up and drive it?”
-“I would really love to, but I can’t drive at all. In fact, I’ll have to take a train, myself.”
-“Le shit. Then we’ll have to find someone else to transport it. You might as well catch a ride with them, then.”
3 tickets- If all goes well, I will be standing at the gates of Black Rock City in exactly 6 months, with my friend by my side, a fortune in my back pocket and an appealing rump in my palm- in order of how “well” it went (and also, likelihood).
The first hurdle was taken in an attic, with 2 people in front of 4 flickering screens on 2 different IP addresses, automatically refreshing every 30 seconds, resulting in a 10 minute emotional rollercoaster of successive hope and disappointment every 7.5 seconds on average as the website bumped us again and again. Maniacal, yes, but it is the only tactic that works.
Pro tip: If you really want those tickets to that thing you and everyone else likes, obsessive behavior will get you there- nothing less.