Chase the dot: Prelude

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I think I was bluffing.

I didn’t have any plans for summer vacation, and the rainy season had dampened my hopes of getting to know my newly acquired Daelim 125 Ajeossi special. In the office on Friday before vacation, you know that happy question is coming…

“What will you do for summer vacation?”

I didn’t plan a damn thing, and airline prices had hit ‘nope’ 2 weeks ago. I had nothing. I had just been home for 2 months seeing my family, and just gone to Japan for a visa run (and winter Vacation). I couldn’t be bothered throwing a grand or so at a vacation when I felt like I hadn’t really done anything. So, I told myself (and them) what I thought would be a fanciful lie.

“I think I’m gonna take my motorcycle and drive around the country”

As I said it, I knew I’d back out of it. It sounded pretentious. It sounded fun. It sounded like something someone braver than I would do. As I thought about it, I started the process of talking myself out of it and simultaneously rehearsing my excuse. Maybe I was sick? Yeah, they’ll buy that. No one saw me. Sure.

I spent a rainy Saturday inside, venturing out for Domino’s at the corner and otherwise watching episodes of sitcoms that I could repeat most (ok, all) of the dialogue to. It was raining, right? I’m not doing anything in this weather. Yeah, it’s totally the weather. I leaned into that pillow fort of bad faith, and finished that pizza I was “totally going to eat the rest of tomorrow”.

Sunday came. I moped, I drank coffee and disingenuously shook my fists at the sky . Another excuse to order food in and lay around and wound eternity. I didn’t even feel obliged to run to train for the half marathon I had been prepping for. I changed out of my sense of duty and into my finest pajamas, and so it was .

Sometime after my second cup of black coffee, a horrible thing happened… The sky opened up, the sun came out, and it went away. My excuse! This horrible rain, gone! I panicked without my sombre alibi.

Suddenly, my fear of stagnation pinned down my insatiable layabout long enough for me to pack. 10 minutes of throwing essentials into a bag and I was out the door before I figured out a new reason not to. I had no route, no plan, and very little experience riding a motorcycle but… fuck it. This is the kind of thing stories I’d like to listen to are about, and I’ll be damned if I’m not gonna live that way while I have the chance.

I started it up, pointed it south, and put it in gear.

After all, you don’t live on the other side of the world to watch reruns.

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