| OCR Text |
Show 98 Christmas lights in the garage and would try after drinking to talk girls into having sex with him on the couch. An apartment that dirty was not good for my self-esteem, and I avoided it as much as I could. Every morning I took a minute to reverberate in the company of thousands of wives, husbands, dorm mates, inmates, scouts, and one night stand people across the country-in the worldwide river of regret and desire, wishing that I didn't just wake up where I did. Then I quietly gathered my things, walked outside, and found things to do with myself all day. When I didn't have work I would walk around Orem and Provo or go to school or the library. Once after doing mushrooms on frozen Utah Lake and returning home still feeling the effects, Chris imagined that his pile of laundry came to life and told him to kill himself. The laundry pile identified itself as Satan and Chris called me and told me to come get him the hell out of there. Village Inn Village Inn was the diner up the street from our apartment. In Utah County summer, the days are at least 90 degrees and feel worse because of the brightness in every car windshield, window and discarded water bottle, until the night wraps a cooling curtain around the area. Because of that, in the summer neither Chris nor I did a lot of sleeping until dark started to give way to bluish dawn, and since we usually had nothing to do and I always wanted to get out of the apartment, we spent a lot of time at that diner with the orange perimeter drinking endless $1.39 coffee from a dark brown, penguin-shaped carafe and |
