Day 3

7:18pm

I wrote a lot today in my hard copy daybook. Nothing about last night's conversation with my brother, which I hope to get on here or in there by the week's end. I had my students vomit-writing about predicaments today and I joined in the writing fun. Here's a sample:

I was driving from Pittsburgh to Philly in the summer of _________ ... can't remember the year, but Phish was on tour and I just saw them the night before in Burgettestown outside of Pittsburgh and was seeing them later in the evening the night of my drive in Camden outside of Philadelphia. I was cruising along with my friend Uke next to me occasionally snoring occasionally turning on some tunes for the ears' pleasure occasionally telling stories of his world travels and other shows he's seen all the while I drove, following two other friends of mine. Once we stopped. The ride b/w Pitt and Philly sucks. That is S-U-C-K-S, sucks. It's a turnpike that's more of a spike
a spike
a spike through... not through but a spike coming out from your brain, in all directions.
The monotony of the road kills.
There's so much beautiful PA to see it's a wonder they didn't lay the road somewhere near there.
Anyway we stopped once to get gas. I have 5 dollars to my name until Friday and it was Wednesday and I was seeing Phish tonight and tomorrow night. But what the hell. Uke was in the john, so I spent the rest of my cash. Hours later, as we approached the turnpike exit, I grab and hand the ticket to Uke thinking he was going to cough over some green to pay the toll. Instead, he tells me how much it is. I look over at him and say, "But I don't have anymore money."
"What?" he asks, paying attention.
"I don't..."
"But I thought you got some at the gas station."
"No. I spent the last of it there."
"Well, shit man. I don't have any cash either."
And holding the ticket in his hand Uke turned his attention to the fastly approaching toll booth.
Predicament.