Bacon to the 'Burgh

Friday morning I rolled over and woke up next to the remnants of my Compadres burrito and salsa. Now THAT'S how you finish off a good night: waking up next to Mexican food.

Prof Mike picked me up from the hotel, I said my goodbyes to Edinboro, and we hit the road for Pittsburgh.

The long, leisurely ride down I-79 with Mike would've been lovely had it not been for those last 3 shots. I spent most of the ride with my back pushed into my seat, chin to my neck, as if melting into the cushion would keep the food in my stomach. Luckily, Mike spent most of the ride going off on the environmental wrongs of fracking and, luckily, I agree with him, so I didn't have to offer much to the conversation but an occasional affirmation.

We got off I-79 at Rt. 422 where my buddy Ben was waiting. I did a double take.  Standing tall in his aviators, slick haircut, goatee, and blazer, he might've looked like a model if he hadn't stepped out of a P.O.S. car. Anyway, Ben looked good and I hoped into his car for home.

Ben was kind enough to pick me up because we had always wanted to go to this tiny Mexican joint along the way called Rey Azteca. (I don't know why I keep ending up at Mexican places outside of Southern California.)

We walk in the door and immediately the smell of food makes me wanna heave. (Kids, stay in school, don't do drugs, and once you have a job, you can party hard at your alma matter.)  Ben decides it's a good idea to order his food to go.

Ben drives the rest of the way to my hometown of Sarver. The last thing I remember before arriving at my mom's house and crawling into my childhood bed is how blue the sky is, how green the grass is, and how beautiful everything is in bloom. I miss springtime in Pennsylvania. Goodnight and time to recharge!

-Bacon