Coon Boon Part 1
This story begins like all good stories do -- right in the middle of so many others. I don't know how far to go back. I had decided to travel in Colombia because of a lack of other options. I didn't really have a plan; I would go down there and figure it out. That almost happened and then I met a guy. Not a guy like all the other boys I knew, this one was different. He was unassuming and calm, he didn't drink too much or speak harshly to others. He didn't judge me when I did all the things he didn't. So I went to Colombia. I traveled around there and worked on my Spanish. I met and stayed with locals. I ate splendid food. I began to understand what it meant to be homesick. I missed my boy. So I came home. I left my travel partner and my anti-plan and came home. I could have imploded how relieved I was to be home. I hadn't really felt anything like it before. You see, with a wandering and angry father, I had never really stayed too long a place. But I still wanted to travel. I wanted to test this thing out. Me and the boy drove west. We drove west with an anti-plan and camping gear we never used. We would see the Grand Canyon and stick our toes in the Pacific. We would make love in every hotel along the way. And so we did. We drove west and saw the sights. We hit the ocean and turned around. Where to next?