I haven’t owned a car since 2001. On September 5, a week before 9/11, my midnight blue Mazda Miata convertible was repossessed.
I suppose I could use my old wallet, but it’s full of a life I no longer lead. The owner of that wallet once had an apartment, a full time job, and disposable income, an abundant life that utilized all of the slots.
I never forgot it, that fortnight of financial gain. I know that the California Lottery was counting on the fact that I would never forget.
Lunch at Mr. Lucky’s in the Hard Rock Hotel. They may have called the turkey burger “Free Bird,” but it cost $15.