Continued from Part Four.

After a few drunken days with the boys in Maryland, I said my silent goodbyes (they were asleep) and drove to Tallahassee in one big go, about 14 or 15 hours of straight driving. The old gold Golf held true. Route I-95 the whole way until Jacksonville, then a big right turn onto the 10. I stayed awake smoking cigarettes, chugging Mountain Dews purchased at gas stations, and by slapping myself in the face when I felt like I was nodding off.

I arrived in the capital city of Tallahassee around nine, found the main drag toward the ridiculous capital building. All lit up, a magnificent…Cock and balls. One giant skyscraper thrusting skyward between two giant domes. Ah Florida! This was it…But I was lost. A city ten times, twenty times larger than my hometown. Small in terms of big cities, but to me, a vast metropolis. I had to pull off several times and call my friend, Sweetie, to find my new home, but continued to get lost and so parked in the lot of a Publix supermarket and waited while he and Tigger, my other roommate and buddy from high school, came to find me.

After some smiles and hellos, I followed them through a typical residential neighborhood. One story houses with carports, large front and back yards. We turned down another area to the college section where each place had three to four cars in the driveway. There it was! My new home away from home! They brought me in, handed me a beer and a key to the front door. A glass pipe full of good Florida weed they called “The Krypto.” I met my other roomie, a large boisterous dude named Rob, a native Floridian.

My bedroom was small. I woke up on the carpeted floor of it the next morning. The others had all gone off to school, students at FSU. And me? Well, once again I found myself in an odd situation. I propped myself up against one wall and wondered what the hell I had done. What were my life plans? The others were at least driving toward some sort of common goal, all of them in the final phase of their time at a univeristy, a bastion of higher education. I felt immediately like an outcast. Ah, but I would have it no other way.

I spent the day setting up my stereo and drawing board. I had a chair and no bed, no dresser. I put my meager clothing on hangers in the closet. After flipping through the phone book, I went out to find a mattress. Well, a futon actually. A good one that cost me well over $200. That left me with about half the money I had started with.

It was time to find a job.

I first went to the stadium, the main entity the entire town revolved around. Football is big in Florida and nearly nothing is as big as FSU football. The stadium itself was vast, a modern coliseum built of brick and dreams. I parked and walked right in through the arches. There it all was. The field, the seats. The magnificent, green field basking in the Florida sun. I found my way up to the University Club, asked for the chef, waited. He appeared, took one look at me and narrowed his eyes. That was it. I knew it. All he saw was a punk ass with long hair.

I asked if he needed anyone and dropped Kevin’s name.

“Oh yeah?” he said. “Good old Kevin O’Neil. Long time since CIA.”

A glimmer of hope?

“We’re not looking for anyone right now. Sorry.”

With that he turned away.