The Mis-adventures Travel Guide

11:59, half-way through another shift. Watching the clock tick away the last sixty seconds of my short break. How many times have I done this? Sitting here at the same wobbly window side table, I could easily fix the problem by folding a few napkins under the short leg, instead, as usual, I just trace the rim of an empty cup of coffee with my finger. That is one thing the cup and I have in common, we are both empty. How did I end up here? When did my life become a spectator sport? I was supposed to travel, to see the world, to smell, touch, and taste everything. But no, here I am in my home town, selling over priced coffee from exotic places I have never seen. The irony of this thought makes me smile, and it is this thought that awakens that ..... That insatiable craving, like needing a cigarette when all you hold is a crumpled pack. I can’t focus. The taste of coffee on my tongue has turned bitter and all I can feel is the need for change. 12:02, I’m late. I don’t care. The rest of the day passes in a blur of suits and girls in Ugg boots. I barely pay attention to the seemingly infinite orders for cups of coffee as common to me as the people ordering them. My service is lacking, and I know it. My mind is distant, far off, stuck halfway between reality and a dream. It doesn’t matter, I’ve come to a decision, today is my last day. 6:43, an electricity runs through me like I have just put my tongue to a car battery, only somehow enjoyable. I click “Purchase Ticket”, it is the kind of shock that can only be felt by a nomadic soul reading for the first time the words, London: One Way.