Early Social Media Writing (2014)

This was one of the first pieces I wrote in which I tried to convey my experiences in a quasi-literary form.

It feels a little overexposed, confessional, and too revealing. Quite maudlin and overwrought in retrospect, but people seemed to like it:

“I was at Fort Bragg and I was doing anything I could to stay the hell away from that place.

The summer of ‘93 I’d graduated college and was living in a cheap assed $250 per month off-beach apartment in Kill Devil Hills, NC working days at the front desk of the local Best Western and getting bombed out of my gourd at night on King Cobra and trying to continue the college experience. Every night.

Shit didn’t pan out the way I’d hoped after that disappointingly short imaginary Endless Summer, so I decided to join the Army.

From my failed attempt at an idyllic beach life the previous year I brought with me to Fort Bragg a 7’4″ WRV fatboard, that I kept displayed prominently in my room as if to say to all who viewed it, “I’m not one of you. I’m different. I’m special.”

Every chance I had, I’d try to get away from that place. I absolutely hated it.

Nevertheless, one of the guys in my unit fancied himself a surfer as well because he was allegedly from Florida, and after talking a bit, we decided to make a road trip one weekend day to Wrightsville Beach, NC – about two hours to the east of Fort Bragg near Wilmington.

I don’t remember why we didn’t just spend the night there, but all I recollect is that there was no surf that weekend and we eventually retired to some beachside bar where they were serving Red Wolf beer.

The bar was sterile and the AC was frigidly on high. I mean, it was freezing. No ambiance. No nothing. Worse, there were no windows overlooking the beach – despite the fact the bar was right on the beach and this was supposed to be a locals “beach bar.”

I remember there were only one or two other patrons at the bar besides us chattering obliviously, and after two or three beers, my Florida friend and I decided to drive back to Fort Bragg, having accomplished exactly nothing.”