They drove west in an Orange
Saturn VUE
. The driver was smoking a
cigarette
although they usually didn't smoke. But today was a special occasion so he had specifically went to the store to pick up a pack of
American Spirits
Blue the day before picking up his passenger.
She was a smoker. But she usually smoked
Camel
, but wouldn't deny an American Spirit. The two of them had been smoking the entire time during the one hour fifteen minute drive. His, the driver's, throat was beginning to burn, but he didn't care. Or he did care but in the opposite way. He liked the burn. The burn symbolized a good time. Sitting in the car, smoking, listening to her favorite music.
His name was
Jake Raynor
. And he had just graduated college in the past year but was taking a year off. His parents said that was a good plan, and though he didn't believe it nor believed that his parents thought that he went with the plan. The no-plan plan. Yes The
No-Plan Plan
.
The plan was to burn a year, maybe two, doing nothing. Of course the people around Jake and supporting this endeavour used more colorful words to paint doing 'nothing' as something more admirable. Exploration and discovery. But at the end of the day... or the end of the 365 days, it amounted to him burning another year achieving nothing at all.
A year off. To take a year off didn't one need a year on? Otherwise what would you be taking a year off from?
college
was the answer here. But to Jake this was a bullshit answer. College hadn't been anything. It's true that many kids burned themselves out at university but that didn't make college itself or their fruitless, meaningless efforts any more worthwhile. They were just spinning their wheels, in order to cover their asses once the four years was gone and they had nothing to show for themselves. They and their families could pat them on the pack and tell them "You tried hard, that's all we could ask for!"
Raynor wasn't like one of them. Not that he had landed himself anything he could point to as accomplishment, but at least he didn't try hard. In that way he came out on top because he hadn't burned himself out at the university like the others.
"You know..." Raynor said to his passenger between drags of his organic cigarette. "I was a real slacker in college. I used to look up to the wrong people. Knew some guys who got really good grades but they never tried hard. In fact they would always brag about how they slacked. I think that messed me up. I think I always thought trying hard was a loser thing to do."
The passenger was a 23 or so year old woman who just graduated from
NYU
. She was the same age as Raynor but had taken a fifth year so had graduated a year after him. She was fresh out of college and she was not one to take a year off. She sat there listening to Raynor give his spiel, and it sounded like the thing he always did. Which was describe his coward, pathetic life in a manner that painted him as some kind of misunderstood hero. She knew when he was doing this whenever he began pointing to heroes he had had growing up and talking about values he held which held him back. In this case the value being
work ethic
.
"Now after taking a year off, I think I just want to go really hard on something you know? And that's why I think I really like... or what I really like about you. You have so much vigor and you're here for a reason. You're really trying to achieve something. When I hear about you I never think that you're a sucker for your work ethic. I see it as
dedication
. And dedication is beautiful."
His throat couldn't handle another cigarette. Raynor still offered her his American Spirits but she craved her Camel now. They were about eight minutes away from their destination. With an American Spirit the cigarette would still be burning by their arrival. With the Camel it'd be done and time for a new one. The destination was a
cafe
in the middle of nowhere. Apparently it was run by somebody Raynor's passenger knew.