Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Lucky Traveller or Hooker?



Being an adventurer has it's perks. Over time friends learn to stop expecting things of you and before you know it they've replaced annoyance with your unreliability (because you were kidnapped by a Colombian gang and held for ransom, too bad you couldn't make that office party) with resigned curiosity. They'd like to trade places for a day but will settle on hoping a boulder will fall on you, after which they'll say "I told you that was dangerous."


The problem lies in the folks who think you should be sensible. And it's always your family. However, if by chance they met an unrelated adventurer they'd be rapt with admiration for their fearlessness - an Australian boy they ran into who was hitch-hiking his way across America with no money, maybe. I can't tell you how frustrating that is. If it's you though, you're just a lazy good-for-nothing because everyone is just dying to know how you can afford your travels. Whatever it is, it can't be honest.  


My family thinks I'm a hooker. Really though, I'm just lucky.

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