The New Business Model

We're living in a new age. An economic age where the greatest risk you take is not taking one at all. So I'm 30 and doing all the normal musings of a 30 year old. Conversations with my mom that end in "you do realize you're 30." And waking up every day sure today is the day I make something of my life. But see I'm certain that when I shuffle through my imaginary mental scrapbook in the year 2070, when I'm terrorizing my kids and grandkids with my irrational requests, I can also say I've made something of this dear body and flesh and life and spirit and mind.

And if all else fails, one you readers must appear at my memorial with the words I need you to say, "Shit damn, f word (shake head) she did try."

The new business model doesn't ask for a whole lot of anything. Heck mom I can even do it! See the new business model is a truck, and a twitter account. The new business model is a roach coach. The sort you go to, and you wait. And you wait. And people, well me, we're obsessed. A quarter of my day, the quarter I'd qualify as the productive quarter is spent following these trucks through the 60-70 miles from north san fernando valley to south orange county. I've seen shaved ice from a roach coach, korean bbq tacos, and meals served only on frys. Home Depot roach coaches eat your heart out! It is a new movement, my new obsession, where a meal is completely uninteresting to me, until I've eaten it out of a roach coach on a crowded street corner, with plastic utensils, in uncomfortable heels.

But, and I was not looking forward to this point in my tale to you, I've never actually eaten at one. I follow them all, and I get excited when it's down the street, like one was today, but in the same line of thinking that I turn down every opportunity to meet my idol Miss Britney Jean Spears, I apply to the roach coach. Even if it was the best experience ever, like best ever, it would be over.

Perhaps I'm a girl of the chase.