Maine: Part 1

My latest trip to Maine was a whirlwind experience. Action packed from start to finish and the activity kicked up a few days before I left San Francisco. It started with a deadline for a story. SmartMeters were the topic and I gotta say its hard to write a sassy story about utility meters. After staying up bleary eyed for a few nights and pounding my thumb with the hammer a few times I finally hit the railroad spike on the head. I'm now working on a story about an obstacle course designed to give physically fit adults a fit. I better get my ass to the gym to keep up with my interview subjects.

My flight landed in Boston just after 6:30 in the morning September 1st. I really can't sleep on airplanes, so the red eye flight really did have that effect on my whites. I grabbed my checked luggage and made my way to the curb where I waited for Chris to pick me up. I hate taking the bus back to Maine after a red eye for a couple of reasons. First, I'm paranoid about missing my Portland stop so sleep is out of the question. Second, the movie is always terrible. Third, I always miss the bus by a couple of minutes and have to wait 2-3 hours for the next one. On this day Chris was running a little late so I ended up waiting for a while. Luckily not long after taking my seat on a bench to inhale car fumes for an hour Evan sat down next to me and lit up a smoke.

Evan was your typical 20 year old from Bah-stin. His thick accent was unmistakable. His pasty white skin covered by a dark beard with a twinge of red gave away his obvious Irish ancestry. The brim of his newsboy cap covered his uni-brow which you could tell he occasionally passed a razor through. He wore a giant bead neckless, the type that could gain you a major cleavage show at Mardi Gras. Evan wasn't returning home from New Orleans though, he was fresh off the plane from Las Vegas.

Sin city was kind to the young man who borrowed his 22 year old brother's license for the week. No Vegas bar or club turned him away. In fact, he was only carded 4 times during his entire week long adventure. Evan's luck didn't end there, he was up gambling as well, but he blew all that money on his "girlfriends". One of which was a smokin' hot polish chick whom he stayed up all night dancing with and then...Chris arrived! Parting Evan's side was such sweet sorrow.

The ride back to Maine was invigorating. Chris and I talked about our fast approaching trip to Baxter State Park and attempt to climb Mt. Katahdin. Shortly after crossing the Piscataqua I got a call from my dad. Two things became obvious at this point. One was that I needed Dunkin Donuts coffee in order to have a coherent conversation with the old man upon my return home. Two I needed to grab some sleep to get ready for the long days ahead.