Franklin Veaux (tacit) wrote,
Franklin Veaux
tacit

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Chapter I: help me i am in hell

This is the story, told in four chapters of my trip to San Francisco with Shelly to attend the MacWorld Expo. The chapters are posted in reverse chronological order, so they may be read as they ought.


I am not a morning person.

I knew that my flight would be leaving very early in the morning. So naturally, I took the appropriate measures the night before. kellyasmith and I went to a late dinner with several friends from PolyTampa, and when we got back home at about midnight, I spent the next hour playing Age of Mythology.

Which, just for the record, I beat.

So I finally got to bed nice and early, at about 1:30 AM, so as to look and feel my best for my cross-country flight a few hours later.

All things considered, kellyasmith is an amazing person. Not only did she deal with my agonizing pain, incessant whining, and general bad disposition with grace and charm when we awoke, she even drove me to the airport.

Or should I say, dropped me off in South-Central Hell (lower level).

My flight into San Francisco offered something not listed in any of the travel guides: Two unrelated girls, age 13 and 14, travelling unaccompanied across the country.

I had a center seat. Keirston, age 13, had the aisle seat; Kelly, 14, had the window seat.

I was a late bloomer. When I was 13, I didn't particularly care about girls at all. As it turns out, there was a very good reason for that. 13-year-old girls suck.

"Like, my stepmom is such a bitch! She never lets me do anything. When I, like, wanted a cell phone, she, like, totally said no. So I had to get a cell phone and have the bill sent to my boyfriend. He's like, totally stupid, and I had to break up with him last month. He's still so, like, totally seventh grade."

there. is. no. god.

Aha! I thought. Keirston, Kelly, I am older and wiser than you. I have my laptop and my MP3s. I can escape you! I can retreat into my own world!

Wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong.

"Like, you have a laptop! How much did it cost? I want a laptop, but, like, my stepmom totally won't let me have one. She has a laptop. She bought it with my dad's money."

Three hours of of this hell feels like thirty years.

The universe is not utterly dedicated to evil, though. The weather in San Francisco was beautiful, and remained so for most of the rest of the week, as if to atone for forcing me to endure the inane chatter of teenage girls. And I was rescued from my own little private Hell and transported back to sanity by feorlen and her boyfriend Steve, who restored me to mental health by bestowing the most sacred of blessings, old tech.
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