Chapter X: The progression of the day had brought us together, our legs touching as I argued with myself whether or not I should kiss her. It seemed a foregone conclusion, but I’d been wrong before.
Chapter IX: Allston is the cirrhosis-stricken liver of Boston’s college nexus. Calling it rat-infested inaccurately characterizes the natural ecosystem.
Chapter VIII: She held out a box cutter. “Take this. Just in case.” The darkened St. Roch neighborhood was no place to walk without protection.
Chapter VII: It was mid-January and I had returned to familiar territory: jobless and scrambling to put together enough income to make it another month.
Chapter VI: I arrived in Nashville defeated. I had crawled through San Francisco and Chicago amidst the worst of the Great Recession and come out the other side, officially in the latter half of 10 Cities/10 Years; I was drained, bitter, and ready to give up.
Chapter III: At 24, I was single, young (not that I knew it), and living in the land of milk and silicone.
Chapter II: I chose Philadelphia for my second year specifically so I could push myself, test my mettle. In that sense, it fulfilled every expectation.
It's been some time since I wrote 1 of these, but seeing as I'm in my last month, I figured I'd bring back this feature for an appropriate send off. Bar regulars are a varied lot. There are the assholes and the loners, but somewhere in between sits the patron saint of all drunks: The … Continue reading BARchetypes: The One Who’s Gonna Die Here