Talent Show

Last night, my best friend and I had an obnoxious laughing fit at the Lumberyard Tavern’s early Happy Hour in Encinitas while recounting to my guest from Portland all the trouble we’ve been in all over the world—the times we should’ve died but didn’t. “We don’t die. That is our talent.”

She—who shall not be named because she actually wants a shot at a normal, scandal-free career—and I have been to Guatemala, Mexico, Norway, England, Italy, Spain, and Portugal together. We’ve slept in Lisbon airport for 12 hours because we missed the last bus to Portimão; we’ve rallied for 17 hours on the streets of Madrid because we didn’t want to pay for a hotel; I’ve saved her from a brawl with breakdancers in Bologna, Italy, after she nailed one of them in the balls while spinning on her face; and we tried alcohol for the first time together at a TGIFriday’s in Guatemala City when we were 14, with her family to celebrate my birthday, and Lord of the Rings was playing on the screens in the background (perfection!). We’ve had the most vibrant and bizarre experiences, and now, she’s in school and I’m unemployed. Two broke bitches at a bar, regaling our time bootlegging our adventures abroad to a horrified/impressed audience.

“We’ve constructed our lives to be unemployable … Only we can have so much schooling and amount to nothing.”

If only we could monetize laughs and life-altering experiences … or convince employers that we have useful skills because we survived such self-inflicted stupidity and danger.

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