He left at a time in the morning where his drunken nights usually ended, a coffee and GPS system geared to swoon, a mentality shifting past morning traffic and an accomplishment made to find the mountains of Appalachia after a well rested night forced before the Sunset.
His car was too beaten, too rusted to drive, so he took the newer model of his girl's, who took a newer model of a man in her bed as he sped to the interview. He made it to the capitol where forefathers bled and wrote and read, the History of their origin turned a small town into a clustered metropolis.
His accomplishment of the day was making it to a small diner just off the shore, next to an Amish market, outside the heart of America, in the middle of nowhere. He ate two crab cakes and drank some more coffee as it helped him conquer a ten hour drive in only eight, he was ahead of his own time and his own interview. He found his destination as he sat amongst locals and listened in on their conversations, similar to ones he knew in Ohio, supplemented with real crab cakes instead of real bad catfish from his local lake.
She told him to be careful with the car, to not drive like an idiot, and he was in total control at one-hundred and twenty miles an hour through the mountains, as unmarked State Patrolmen paced beside him, making eye contact long enough to know not to bother, that he had somewhere he needed to be, and so did they.
He had a glimpse of the memorials, and sat on a bench waiting for another man to tell him what would happen with his life. The man asked him if he could "suit up" and made a poke at his newsboy cap, wrinkled slacks, and messy half-Windsor, tucked beneath a gray and grained vest.
"This isn't laid back Ohio, you need to dress accordingly" He said, expecting the young man to wear a suit in a car for fifteen hours. In ten short words he was delegated the job, the man just wanted to see if he was crazy enough to make the drive, so he presented the next challenge.
"Be in New York in three days, you can live on my couch if you need, and you will get paid."
He sped like a demon against traffic, and broke a dozen traffic laws in every school zone in his battle to escape D.C. He was told by a friend who lived in the city it was impossible to commute past four, and his interview ended at three-thirty.
"I'll be out of not just the city, but the state of Maryland by four" He thought to himself, as he knew he succeeded at everything else on that day, and somehow did, without arrest, though he knew he should have seen flashing lights hours before.
Just as illegally as he arrived in Maryland ahead of time he arrived back home, for a celebratory shot at the wood-laden steakhouse he worked for meager means, just after a mutual friend picked up his girl's car at a neutral lot, as she lay beside a new man.
"I made it" he exclaimed, and bragged about the adventure he would soon embark on to anyone who would listen, and his friends cheered his victory and wished him the best.
He went out that night, and every drink coupled another memory of each one dear he knew for years. They talked about where they'd been, where they would go, and passed the bong around one last time before the world changed. The celebration went long into the night, and every girl at the same dank bar wanted to hear about his trip, and the man he would become. He was on top of the world, for just one night, someone had won.
The young man woke up the next morning, and looked at his rust-bucket vehicle, then looked at his dog, and suddenly New York sounded dumb, and so did the couch, and the money. He didn't make the drive, he didn't return the calls. He thought to himself, "fuck you, and your suiting up" then he returned to his meager means and serving tables in the wooden steakhouse, but every time he bit into a bloody ribeye he thought about the taste of fresh crabcakes, and the place he stopped for a moment to reflect on it all, the place he only arrived with time to kill, and how through the steam of burnt coffee he felt at home, next to the Amish market, in who cares Maryland, population: A Handful.
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