Not at Disney World, though. At another ugly bus station. I might sleep here. I did it before; I can do it again. I slept in the Jacksonville bus station for like an hour. No one murdered me! I did not die of summer sausage intake! There is still half the sausage left too. That’s good. I think. Or is it rude to give somebody a gift of half-eaten cheese and sausage? We’ll find out. I am alone now, but the sun’s up. Renee woke me up when it was time to get on the Tampa bus, thank God, or I might still be sleeping on that bench (totally stretched out with my head on my backpack and my Stan Smith tennis shoes dangling out into the aisle). Renee and I boarded the bus and sat down together toward the back. She said, “You’re really, really young, do you know that?” I said, “No.” She said, “I could tell when you were sleeping.
