"Wow, I really did that," is my main thought. I still can't believe it! Me! The young girl who used to follow people around and mould myself into something I thought I should be. Over the years I've come out of my shell, for want of a better turn of phrase. My confidence has grown and I've enjoyed my independence. Travel has propelled me even further into this journey of self-assurance. I strangely feel like I can do anything now if I work hard enough.
There has been an element of skill, organisation and level-headedness to travelling successfully. By that I mean seeing great things, meeting awesome people and seeing the real face of a country, not just the tourist trail. All this and, ya know, not dying. It sounds crazy but there is a very serious element of vulnerability that comes with travel and I did it on my lonesome. I didn't update my mother every day of my whereabouts so anything could have happened and nobody would know...anyway, let's not dwell on that!
Off the top of my head, I've had three close calls which isn't so bad in 16 months really. But I will say this, I have been one lucky so-and-so. Dodging the creepy caped dude for one, but all the opportunities I've had and the lovely people I've met along the way has astonished me. I was pretty lucky in Japan where I somehow managed to spend less than half my budget, a fluke I don't think I'll ever be able to replicate unfortunately. But I think America even tops that but that will all become clear over time.
My first stroke of luck came with the fact that I managed to organise not one, but three hosts in one of the busiest hotspots for couchsurfing. San Francisco is the birthplace of couchsurfing after all so naturally everyone thinks they'll find a place. The problem is, potential hosts are bombarded with requests and who has the time to sit through profile after profile trying to figure out if a surfer is a weirdo. I made sure my message stood out but I sent that many I forget what I wrote. Some desperate ramblings I'm sure but I did always mention something that featured on their profile, that usually goes down well. Thankfully I didn't make any grandiose promises like cooking a feast or buying booze. I can't cook and I'm a poor backpacker, it aint gonna happen! Somehow, I got by on my charming personality...ahem...
*****
My alarm jolted me awake unforgivably. I rolled over and almost smothered myself in the mountain of dry but over-washed clothes I haphazardly piled on top of my suitcase the night before. Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Ah crap, I need to pack.
Although it wasn't exactly the crack of dawn, everyone else was still asleep. Lucky gits. Our room was facing another building so there was no natural light, I needed to work in the dark. Arse. My piddly head torch could not cut it. For getting to the bathroom and back or grabbing belongings, yes, but packing a full case, hell no!
Laura stirred and asked what time it was. Oh joy, she was an early riser. My logic was, Laura was up, the guy above stumbled in and shook my bed in the early hours. By that, I mean he jumped onto the top bunk and fidgeted. He didn't stand over me physically shaking the bed frame nor was that a euphemism for the all to real antics that unfold in shared dorms. He must be worn out from all that activity and the other guy is some weird stealth backpacker who miraculously stays in bed all day. To put it bluntly, I didn't give a shit. Half of the room was up so the light was going on. You need to learn when to be assertive in dorms. I used to be so timid to my own detriment at times. In the end, people need to understand that everyone is working at different paces. It means that people come in late and others wake up early, you just have to deal with it so never feel like you're entitled to peace and quiet all the time. If you're that bothered, you should pay extra for a private room. Of course, I'm not saying have parties, scream in the early hours or have a loud Skype conversation at 5am. I get frustrated when people snore too even though it's not their fault...well it is...It's all fun and games really!
My tough act soon petered out after fidget-bod above me did NOT like the light being turned on. I got a monosyllabic tirade of expletives, oh how pleasant. I chuckled to myself as I started packing, someone needs to man up. My smile was firmly wiped off my face when this guy catapulted himself out of bed and landed right by my side. The sound alone gave me a fright. This was the same cheery gentleman who helped me snap my padlock the previous night. A familiar waft cascaded down and met my nostrils with a firm salute. Uh-oh, this is the weed guy.
My ears received another verbal battering but that's as far as it went. Luckily I didn't have to break out some heavy martial arts moves. I've watched Karate Kid - wax on and wax off - piece of cake. He could have got seriously hurt, stupid man. I regaled the whole story to Laura and we both laughed uneasily. I refrained from telling Laura my skills of karate, the fewer people know the better. I recommended Laura change rooms as soon as possible though as nobody should have to feel like that.
It didn't take me long to pack my bag and I checked out. I left my luggage at the hostel for most of the day as I'd arranged to see an old friend. The last time I met this person was many months ago in the first country I visited, Japan. Out of sheer madness, we agreed to meet at the busiest train station in Japan (and the world for that matter!). The poor guy thought I was exaggerating when I explained how I have no sense of direction and am pretty useless. Most people do as who would be mental enough to travel the world solo when they can barely navigate themselves around their local town, never mind a foreign land. That would be me! I'm full of tricks like that.
It seemed we were a perfect match, me with my maddening lack of direction and him with his limitless patience. Hours after our initial meeting time, we finally saw each other. Most people would have given up after ten minutes but not Ulas. I'm very glad for it as I made a good friend who I am still in contact with. It's what constantly baffles me to this day. The amount of people that you meet whilst travelling that you may only talk to for a seemingly minute time can wind up becoming life-long friends. From a young age you're encouraged NOT to speak to strangers and take any form of kindness and flattery from someone unfamiliar with stark scepticism. It's weird but you kind of get sucked into a world where agreeing to meet a stranger for coffee is commonplace and any act of kindness is cherished when you're in a place you can just about pick out on a map unassisted.
This time I knew where I was going. I picked up a clear map with street names and everything (a rarity whilst on the road, trust me) from the hostel. I got off the bus on the correct street...I was just on the opposite end of where I needed to be. Arse.
Ok, yes, a lot of the built-up areas in America run on a grid system which everyone hails as a lifesaver for those who easily get lost. It does help that they have worded street names juxtaposed to numbered street names. Although I do prefer the slight ignorance of not knowing how far away I am to my final destination - knowing I'm on 2nd Avenue when I need to be on 18th Avenue is just torturous, Before, I used to wander around aimlessly and stumble upon where I was supposed to be. The sheer delight and relief of finding the place erased the hardship of the journey that had befallen. No such luck in America, ha!
Anyhow, I wasn't that far away and I only ended up being 30 minutes late. That's good for me! Ulas was prepared for this and asked me to text him when I was there and he'd come down. It saves him standing around looking out for someone that might not ever show up! Oh yes, and having a phone was a luxury I never had in Japan. Things are so much easier now I can actually confirm with people how late I'll be rather than them hanging around. Back home, I used to always be early or turn up right on time so even if people turned up a few minutes later, it'd look like I'd been waiting longer than I had. I even marked it against my name when I imagined what I'd say in a job interview - "Honest, reliable and punctual." Well, I'm still one of those things now! Oh dear, how things have changed.
After texting Ulas, I quickly readjusted my hair and tried in vain to wipe the sweat off of my face (lovely right?). I'm still not used to the heat and I had walked a fair distance, my fitness levels are still shockingly poor. But it felt like some of the thick beads clinging to my brow were from nerves. I have no idea why. I have nothing to be afraid of!
Ulas and a few of his friends from work greeted me and we searched for a nearby eatery. The main thing that I can remember was my Cypriot friend saying how my appearance was surprising...he thought I'd be fatter. Well...thanks. From my blogs and him witnessing me stuffing my face, he naturally assumed that I'd be the size of a dump truck. I shall take that as a compliment, thank you!
For old time's sake, we had sushi. I had no idea what to pick as everything sounded delicious so I repeated what someone else was having. Everyone chose a set menu so I didn't look like a copycat. I had a mild panic at the realisation that my chopstick skills are back down to basic as I'd mainly been eating foods I can pick up with my hands. Not to worry though as one of Ulas' colleagues absent-mindedly picked up his iPhone with a pair of chopsticks. There was no strict etiquette here apparently.
Conversation flowed freely and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. The food was exceptionally good. We didn't stay for dessert although I could have polished off a sizable wedge of cake. Speaking of cakes, one of Ulas' friends was celebrating her birthday today. Something I happened to bring up as we passed a cake shop. I joked to Ulas that he should buy his friend Jacky a birthday cake as people normally get in a cake for someone's birthday in the office. As if hypnotised, Ulas stopped, turned around and walked into the cake shop. Wait...wait...ok, I think you should give me a thousand dollars...damn, I had to say cake first.
Ulas didn't just buy any cake, he bought a massive chocolate cake that looked like it descended from heaven. It glowed and sparkled like an orb of pure happiness. Today is a good day. Any day is a good day when cake is involved of course.
We went back to where Ulas works. His office had a laid back atmosphere to it and I wasn't cast out as an intruder despite my hobo appearance. It could also be down to the fact that we had cake, something I couldn't keep my mind off of. As Ulas showed me around and explained a bit about what he does, all I could think about was that cake. I did get slightly sidetracked by the snack shelves and fridges. An office with free food and drink, where do I sign up?
Time ticked on by and still no cake. There is seriously something wrong with me. This is not my cake, I didn't buy it and it's not my birthday. But it's chocolate cake, heavenly, moist, quadruple layered, fluffy, perfect...GIMME CAAAAAKE! I went to the restroom to pull myself together. It's just a cake, I can do this. I said this internally, I haven't got to the point in my life where I talk to myself in the mirror. Plus, there was someone in the room. I'm not Jim Carrey!
My pep talk was pointless as I felt the words coming out before I could stop them...I mentioned the cake. Ulas, just kick me out now. But instead, Ulas stood to attention and marched off on a mission to find a knife. To cut the cake, not murder someone. I only use my powers for good.
Word spread throughout the office and people started to gather around the cake. Nobody seemed to know what was going on, but they saw cake and that's all that mattered. Aha, it's not just me who is guided by cake. I think this is a general office rule.
Despite the sparkling candles failing, Jacky was very happy with her cake. Who can blame her? I made sure I didn't get the first piece so I didn't look like a complete cake hound. I lingered with my first bite and just stared at this perfect creation. I sighed, knowing full well that in a few moments there will be no cake. Wow, it tasted just as good as it looked.
As soon as the cake had gone, the crowd dispersed and we went back to our lives. I followed Ulas and his colleagues to a small office. They had a brief meeting where I understood nothing. It was a jumble of buzzwords decorated with conjunctions that filtered through as if I was listening to broken English. Debates and challenges were made and problems were possibly solved or side-tracked, I had no clue. At some point things calmed down and attention was drawn to me. Somehow we got to talking about San Fran, the tourist hotspots and the dodgy areas to avoid. I was scared slightly at the serious tone in everyone's voice. I'm not the kind of person who would walk down a shady alleyway but these guys were pointing out streets amongst ones that I'd already walked down. Surely I would have noticed those dangerous areas. The fact that I didn't worried me, what if they look like ordinary streets and then suddenly a knife-wielding maniac walks out of a house and starts chasing me. This is America, anything can happen here. I've survived this long, I'll be fine...*gulp*
It was time to go. I left with loose plans to meet Ulas again before I left. We were both very busy so who knew. Now I had a phone, I felt confident that we'd see each other once more before I left. The time had come to meet my first host.
Although the house I was staying at was a fair distance away from the hostel, I decided to walk there as I didn't fancy lugging all my crap onto the bus. I cut across a couple of districts, one being Tenderloin. This happened to be a place I was told to avoid. It was daylight and there was plenty of innocuous people milling about so I felt safe. There was a guy in a suit pulling a businessman's luggage case***. He didn't look murderous. Yes, everything's fine. I did see why this place was deemed avoidable. It looked run down and there were a few dodgy faces but I just looked straight ahead and kept walking.
Stopping at a crossing, I waited for the lights to change. A guy greeted me and started to talk to me. He could tell I was a visitor what with all my luggage. It doesn't take Sherlock to figure that out! He was polite and asked me what I thought of San Francisco so far. The conversation went back and forth a couple of times when the lights changed. At this point I thought I heard the guy say he really liked the look of me, the eyebrow arch and slight leer aligned with my assumption. Then he said he wanted to spank me and power-walked off. I guess he didn't want to hang around to find out my answer. It could have been his lucky day...it wouldn't have been of course, but one day he might be pleasantly surprised. There might be a girl out there who would love nothing more than a stranger to offer his heavy-handed services. What with all that 50-Shades hype going around, it would not surprise me. Some people offer to buy a drink, some gently nudge forward their phone number and others cut to the chase and reveal their desires.
A few more blocks later - ha, get me speaking the lingo. Not streets, it's blocks now I'll have you know - and I arrived at Andy's house. I timed it perfectly as Andy had just pulled up on his motorcycle. He figured out who I was straight away and I recognised him from his profile photo. It's good to know he is who he says he is. That's a good sign.
Andy helped me carry my things to his apartment. Lucky for the both of us that he lives on the first floor so we only had to tackle one flight of stairs. I was given a brief tour of his place (I say tour, there was only around 3 rooms) and then we had a a good chat. Andy understood this was my first time couchsurfing through the website so he explained a bit about how it works for him. He was very trusting in that he gave me a spare key so I could come and go as I pleased. He said that he tends to go out during the day and work late at night as he works from home. He was friendly but at the same time very clear with how things worked within his home which is completely understandable. I'd much prefer to know how things worked so I don't offend him. I've been to plenty of houses where the occupants don't mind if people walk in and around the house in their shoes and I've been given stern warnings from others who think it's rude not to leave shoes by the door. I instinctively do it now as I learned my lesson! I understood that I was entering somebody else's space and I needed to respect that.
There was a point when I didn't think anyone would want to host me. I sent out so many messages to people without a response. Andy actually sent me an invite. After I sent my first message out, I also posted an ad to the website so other hosts could message me if they had room for me. Andy said he received an email with a few profiles and picked me out as he saw a few similarities in my perspective on life and felt that I was starting a journey that he was all too familiar with. I was a bit reluctant at first as there is a bit of an age gap between us but he had great references and we had a few travelled countries in common.
Once I'd organised my belongings and settled in, it was time to eat. I'd arrived at Andy's quite late in the day. I wasn't hungry at all, in fact I felt a little unwell. Andy offered me a variety of food options and I felt so awkward as the thought of eating anything just turned my stomach more. I am very odd in that there are times when I can eat an enormous amounts of food and feel like a big fatty and then there are other times when the thought of eating a biscuit repulses me. This probably stems from my fussy eating as a child. My mum broke me down eventually.
Feeling lethargic, I didn't feel like doing much. Andy made a herbal tea to settle my stomach and served a series of snacks as we watched Speed. Classic. As well as our love for travel, we also have an equal affection for films. In this case, it was a movie. Yes, in America blockbusters and fluffy chick flicks are called movies and your 'serious stuff' like The King's Speech are called films. See, I'm learning new things every day.
Speed made me feel a lot better...the movie of course. The night had escaped us and it was time to set up my bed. An electric pump brought a cushion of plastic to life. I had a huge air-bed to stretch out on and plenty of blankets. Even though I was sleeping in someone's living room, it felt like I had privacy - something I'd been missing for a long time. All this, and it didn't cost a penny.
*** Disclaimer: This is by no means an assumption that all businessmen are not capable of murder or violent crimes. People who kill come in all shapes and sizes and disguises.
It seemed we were a perfect match, me with my maddening lack of direction and him with his limitless patience. Hours after our initial meeting time, we finally saw each other. Most people would have given up after ten minutes but not Ulas. I'm very glad for it as I made a good friend who I am still in contact with. It's what constantly baffles me to this day. The amount of people that you meet whilst travelling that you may only talk to for a seemingly minute time can wind up becoming life-long friends. From a young age you're encouraged NOT to speak to strangers and take any form of kindness and flattery from someone unfamiliar with stark scepticism. It's weird but you kind of get sucked into a world where agreeing to meet a stranger for coffee is commonplace and any act of kindness is cherished when you're in a place you can just about pick out on a map unassisted.
This time I knew where I was going. I picked up a clear map with street names and everything (a rarity whilst on the road, trust me) from the hostel. I got off the bus on the correct street...I was just on the opposite end of where I needed to be. Arse.
Ok, yes, a lot of the built-up areas in America run on a grid system which everyone hails as a lifesaver for those who easily get lost. It does help that they have worded street names juxtaposed to numbered street names. Although I do prefer the slight ignorance of not knowing how far away I am to my final destination - knowing I'm on 2nd Avenue when I need to be on 18th Avenue is just torturous, Before, I used to wander around aimlessly and stumble upon where I was supposed to be. The sheer delight and relief of finding the place erased the hardship of the journey that had befallen. No such luck in America, ha!
Anyhow, I wasn't that far away and I only ended up being 30 minutes late. That's good for me! Ulas was prepared for this and asked me to text him when I was there and he'd come down. It saves him standing around looking out for someone that might not ever show up! Oh yes, and having a phone was a luxury I never had in Japan. Things are so much easier now I can actually confirm with people how late I'll be rather than them hanging around. Back home, I used to always be early or turn up right on time so even if people turned up a few minutes later, it'd look like I'd been waiting longer than I had. I even marked it against my name when I imagined what I'd say in a job interview - "Honest, reliable and punctual." Well, I'm still one of those things now! Oh dear, how things have changed.
After texting Ulas, I quickly readjusted my hair and tried in vain to wipe the sweat off of my face (lovely right?). I'm still not used to the heat and I had walked a fair distance, my fitness levels are still shockingly poor. But it felt like some of the thick beads clinging to my brow were from nerves. I have no idea why. I have nothing to be afraid of!
Ulas and a few of his friends from work greeted me and we searched for a nearby eatery. The main thing that I can remember was my Cypriot friend saying how my appearance was surprising...he thought I'd be fatter. Well...thanks. From my blogs and him witnessing me stuffing my face, he naturally assumed that I'd be the size of a dump truck. I shall take that as a compliment, thank you!
For old time's sake, we had sushi. I had no idea what to pick as everything sounded delicious so I repeated what someone else was having. Everyone chose a set menu so I didn't look like a copycat. I had a mild panic at the realisation that my chopstick skills are back down to basic as I'd mainly been eating foods I can pick up with my hands. Not to worry though as one of Ulas' colleagues absent-mindedly picked up his iPhone with a pair of chopsticks. There was no strict etiquette here apparently.
Conversation flowed freely and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. The food was exceptionally good. We didn't stay for dessert although I could have polished off a sizable wedge of cake. Speaking of cakes, one of Ulas' friends was celebrating her birthday today. Something I happened to bring up as we passed a cake shop. I joked to Ulas that he should buy his friend Jacky a birthday cake as people normally get in a cake for someone's birthday in the office. As if hypnotised, Ulas stopped, turned around and walked into the cake shop. Wait...wait...ok, I think you should give me a thousand dollars...damn, I had to say cake first.
Ulas didn't just buy any cake, he bought a massive chocolate cake that looked like it descended from heaven. It glowed and sparkled like an orb of pure happiness. Today is a good day. Any day is a good day when cake is involved of course.
We went back to where Ulas works. His office had a laid back atmosphere to it and I wasn't cast out as an intruder despite my hobo appearance. It could also be down to the fact that we had cake, something I couldn't keep my mind off of. As Ulas showed me around and explained a bit about what he does, all I could think about was that cake. I did get slightly sidetracked by the snack shelves and fridges. An office with free food and drink, where do I sign up?
Time ticked on by and still no cake. There is seriously something wrong with me. This is not my cake, I didn't buy it and it's not my birthday. But it's chocolate cake, heavenly, moist, quadruple layered, fluffy, perfect...GIMME CAAAAAKE! I went to the restroom to pull myself together. It's just a cake, I can do this. I said this internally, I haven't got to the point in my life where I talk to myself in the mirror. Plus, there was someone in the room. I'm not Jim Carrey!
My pep talk was pointless as I felt the words coming out before I could stop them...I mentioned the cake. Ulas, just kick me out now. But instead, Ulas stood to attention and marched off on a mission to find a knife. To cut the cake, not murder someone. I only use my powers for good.
Word spread throughout the office and people started to gather around the cake. Nobody seemed to know what was going on, but they saw cake and that's all that mattered. Aha, it's not just me who is guided by cake. I think this is a general office rule.
Despite the sparkling candles failing, Jacky was very happy with her cake. Who can blame her? I made sure I didn't get the first piece so I didn't look like a complete cake hound. I lingered with my first bite and just stared at this perfect creation. I sighed, knowing full well that in a few moments there will be no cake. Wow, it tasted just as good as it looked.
As soon as the cake had gone, the crowd dispersed and we went back to our lives. I followed Ulas and his colleagues to a small office. They had a brief meeting where I understood nothing. It was a jumble of buzzwords decorated with conjunctions that filtered through as if I was listening to broken English. Debates and challenges were made and problems were possibly solved or side-tracked, I had no clue. At some point things calmed down and attention was drawn to me. Somehow we got to talking about San Fran, the tourist hotspots and the dodgy areas to avoid. I was scared slightly at the serious tone in everyone's voice. I'm not the kind of person who would walk down a shady alleyway but these guys were pointing out streets amongst ones that I'd already walked down. Surely I would have noticed those dangerous areas. The fact that I didn't worried me, what if they look like ordinary streets and then suddenly a knife-wielding maniac walks out of a house and starts chasing me. This is America, anything can happen here. I've survived this long, I'll be fine...*gulp*
It was time to go. I left with loose plans to meet Ulas again before I left. We were both very busy so who knew. Now I had a phone, I felt confident that we'd see each other once more before I left. The time had come to meet my first host.
Although the house I was staying at was a fair distance away from the hostel, I decided to walk there as I didn't fancy lugging all my crap onto the bus. I cut across a couple of districts, one being Tenderloin. This happened to be a place I was told to avoid. It was daylight and there was plenty of innocuous people milling about so I felt safe. There was a guy in a suit pulling a businessman's luggage case***. He didn't look murderous. Yes, everything's fine. I did see why this place was deemed avoidable. It looked run down and there were a few dodgy faces but I just looked straight ahead and kept walking.
Stopping at a crossing, I waited for the lights to change. A guy greeted me and started to talk to me. He could tell I was a visitor what with all my luggage. It doesn't take Sherlock to figure that out! He was polite and asked me what I thought of San Francisco so far. The conversation went back and forth a couple of times when the lights changed. At this point I thought I heard the guy say he really liked the look of me, the eyebrow arch and slight leer aligned with my assumption. Then he said he wanted to spank me and power-walked off. I guess he didn't want to hang around to find out my answer. It could have been his lucky day...it wouldn't have been of course, but one day he might be pleasantly surprised. There might be a girl out there who would love nothing more than a stranger to offer his heavy-handed services. What with all that 50-Shades hype going around, it would not surprise me. Some people offer to buy a drink, some gently nudge forward their phone number and others cut to the chase and reveal their desires.
A few more blocks later - ha, get me speaking the lingo. Not streets, it's blocks now I'll have you know - and I arrived at Andy's house. I timed it perfectly as Andy had just pulled up on his motorcycle. He figured out who I was straight away and I recognised him from his profile photo. It's good to know he is who he says he is. That's a good sign.
Andy helped me carry my things to his apartment. Lucky for the both of us that he lives on the first floor so we only had to tackle one flight of stairs. I was given a brief tour of his place (I say tour, there was only around 3 rooms) and then we had a a good chat. Andy understood this was my first time couchsurfing through the website so he explained a bit about how it works for him. He was very trusting in that he gave me a spare key so I could come and go as I pleased. He said that he tends to go out during the day and work late at night as he works from home. He was friendly but at the same time very clear with how things worked within his home which is completely understandable. I'd much prefer to know how things worked so I don't offend him. I've been to plenty of houses where the occupants don't mind if people walk in and around the house in their shoes and I've been given stern warnings from others who think it's rude not to leave shoes by the door. I instinctively do it now as I learned my lesson! I understood that I was entering somebody else's space and I needed to respect that.
There was a point when I didn't think anyone would want to host me. I sent out so many messages to people without a response. Andy actually sent me an invite. After I sent my first message out, I also posted an ad to the website so other hosts could message me if they had room for me. Andy said he received an email with a few profiles and picked me out as he saw a few similarities in my perspective on life and felt that I was starting a journey that he was all too familiar with. I was a bit reluctant at first as there is a bit of an age gap between us but he had great references and we had a few travelled countries in common.
Once I'd organised my belongings and settled in, it was time to eat. I'd arrived at Andy's quite late in the day. I wasn't hungry at all, in fact I felt a little unwell. Andy offered me a variety of food options and I felt so awkward as the thought of eating anything just turned my stomach more. I am very odd in that there are times when I can eat an enormous amounts of food and feel like a big fatty and then there are other times when the thought of eating a biscuit repulses me. This probably stems from my fussy eating as a child. My mum broke me down eventually.
Feeling lethargic, I didn't feel like doing much. Andy made a herbal tea to settle my stomach and served a series of snacks as we watched Speed. Classic. As well as our love for travel, we also have an equal affection for films. In this case, it was a movie. Yes, in America blockbusters and fluffy chick flicks are called movies and your 'serious stuff' like The King's Speech are called films. See, I'm learning new things every day.
Speed made me feel a lot better...the movie of course. The night had escaped us and it was time to set up my bed. An electric pump brought a cushion of plastic to life. I had a huge air-bed to stretch out on and plenty of blankets. Even though I was sleeping in someone's living room, it felt like I had privacy - something I'd been missing for a long time. All this, and it didn't cost a penny.
*** Disclaimer: This is by no means an assumption that all businessmen are not capable of murder or violent crimes. People who kill come in all shapes and sizes and disguises.
