Just had a convo that took me back to Fall 1998. Jesse and I got laid off from a printing company that was downsizing. We weren't sure what to do. Aha! Live in a tent in Key West for a few months. A girl joined us and we hit the road.

Once we got there, we found out it cost around $50 a night in its only campground. We slept there for only a night before hunting for a cheaper residence. The only available place we found was a villa for recovering alcoholics.

We didn't sink so low as to pretend we were alcoholics (although it was the only time in my life it'd be a good idea to show up sloshed for the application process) but the landlord got us an apartment because he had a deaf brother in law that died young or something. One catch to living there was...you guessed it, we weren't allowed to drink. Not a drop, lest one whiff of our boozy breath tempteth the fellow residents to jump off the wagon. We visited the local bars anyway. It's strange, the power to destroy scores of lives simply by having a beer.

Our last night in K.W. was wild. A hurricane struck and left the island powerless, among things best not mentioned in the public.