He sounded full of business when the conversation ought to have been casual. I got a call back from a guy who I would consider a friend. Not a close friend, but a friend with a bicycle shop who could give me a job in Key West. Check back. He might hire someone else, so check back. I'm wondering when this pool of competent mechanics showed up down there. From what I've seen, you're lucky if your mechanic isn't throwing up in the toilet all day.
Why do I want to go to Key West? I don't. I was interested to realize this. The island is there, and it will also be there later. It exists as an important part of my past, and it is an escape hatch that will never be welded shut. Key West is there, and I am here. I can exist in either place, but for once the grass actually seems greener right under my feet. I like my apartment and my girlfriend. I like living in West Philly. In spite of the changing seasons, I'm not sure I feel the necessity or urge to disappear. Maybe I'll visit or take a short vacation. But until my life begins to unravel again, I don't know if I need to jump down the escape hatch.
I got a second root canal today. Interestingly, my roommate got a root canal this morning. We both had front-tooth root canals on the same day, and neither one of us minded much. He crashed a bicycle, too.