Riding the rails

I’m drinking beer on the Amtrak train. I feel like I’m getting away with something great. There’s this feeling that I should be hiding my drink. I still have this guilt instilled in me from the pre-21 years. Maybe it’s that I don’t really feel much older. Other than my beard growing much thicker and fuller, I still feel like a teenager. As I walked around downtown today I noticed all the men in suits dressed professionally and felt like I didn’t fit in with them. It seemed like they were in some parallel universe of people who dress nice and act like adults all the time. And at the same time, somehow I do fit in. I work a professional job and interact with these people all the time. Somehow I make it work with my goofy personality and silly attire. I probably would have never survived the advertising days that Mad Men is trying to recreate.

I like to entertain the thought that I am committing a great crime. I snuck this six-pack of beer illegally onto the train. I’m sure they probably had signs all over that I didn’t see. NO-ALCOHOL PERMITTED. Can I trust the person across from me? Maybe they will report me. I should probably bribe them with a beer. Homeland security is watching me. They know I have beer on this train. I’m going to be pulled off at the next stop and hauled away to jail. I’m going to be locked up at Guantanamo Bay and interrogated by water-boarding. I’ll miss my friends, family, and blog readers. Do they have internet at Guantanamo? Who will take care of my cat? I’ll be over the news. CRAZY MAN WITH BEARD SMUGGLES BEER ON TRAIN. They will interview my neighbors and coworkers. They’ll say, “He was a little weird, but very nice. I never thought he would do something like that.” I’ve disappointed my mother. For my last meal, I think I will request Mexican food. Maybe pastor tacos with cilantro and onion, or a black bean burrito with sour cream and guacamole. Will Taco Bell ever bring out the black beans? I feel like they’re saving them for a rainy day when business is hurting.