Project Exodus

Sometimes the clues are all around you, all you have to do is act on them. All day, I’ve been feeling especially optimistic. Maybe the glowing mood had to do with money actually being in my pocket, or maybe it was due to the gorgeous weather. No matter the inspiration, I was in fine spirits as I walked through downtown Greenville.

I was sitting in Sup Dogs (one of my favorite places to eat and chill), idly screwing around online, when the manager Derek came up to speak to me. Last week, he’d come in to the restaurant where I work on a date and sat in my section. The meal went fine and he was very complimentary about my server skills. This afternoon, he mentioned again how good a server he’d found me to be. As if he’d been reading my mind, he said that I should consider moving to a larger city to pursue the money someone with my personality could make. While I doubt I’d ever relocate to follow a food service job (not really my passion, ya dig?) the idea of moving to pursue my writing career has been haunting my mind a lot lately. Every once in a while I’ll casually look into the idea—researching job opportunities, checking out public transportation, etc.—then get caught up in living my life and forget about it for a while.

But this time it feels different. I was skyping with a friend who lives in Durham the other night and the subject came up. Every time Mark says something about me moving to the Raleigh/Durham area, it’s like the seed grows just a little bit larger in my mind. I’ve talked it over with him before, not to mention with my best friend from high school. Knowing I’d be living in close proximity to Sheon and Mark would give me something of an advantage. I’d have friends already in place, so while I may be the New Kid in Town, I doubt I’d be alone and lonely.

It seems a bit ironic to speak of safety nets, since that’s why I moved back to Greenville in the first place. I was living in Florida, and having a truly rough time of things. So I packed my proverbial bags and headed home to Carolina. But I’ve allowed that safety net to engulf me, and I’ve become stuck.

Today was the day I became unstuck. After talking to Derek (and killing 1½ Western Dogs, fries, and a couple of dollar beers) I mulled over the idea of leaving this place that’s become my home. I looked around 5^th Street, wondering what it would be like to call another place home. I let my fingers trace over the brick façade of 5^th Street Annex and questioned whether I could say goodbye to everything I’ve known for the past six years. As I wiped the slight traces of grit off my fingers, the answer came to me in the form of the bumper sticker on a passing car: “Yes We Can!” Whoa.

I spent a couple of hours in the library, writing and using the city’s free wifi. When I realized how late it had gotten, I headed through the lobby to wait for the bus. I figured I had a few minutes, so I just lingered in the AC and read the public announcements board in the lobby. It was littered with ads for pitbull puppies, and translation services. Then, in a corner of the board I saw it. It was plain, almost covered by the plastic cover of the thermostat someone had carelessly left open. When I read the words across the top I flinched as if I’d been shocked by a mild electrical charge. My face felt hot and the skin on the back of my neck prickled with awareness. Okay, Lord, I get it. Message received. Ten-four, Lord.

So, what you’re reading now represents a new beginning. This blog represents the genesis of Project Exodus. I’m giving myself six months to save money, plan, and eventually move to Raleigh. Hell, maybe I’ll consider a different city altogether. All I do know is that this is the only life we get, and if I’m going to advise people to follow their passions, I’d better be doing it myself.

I'm a Celebrity!

I got a pleasant little surprise this afternoon while working on the front desk. A guest came down looking for some toothpaste, and when I handed it to him, he gave me a funny look. A little while later when he came down again to check out, I was busy on the phone. He heard me say my name and gave me another funny look. As he approached the counter, he goes, "Are you the Trey that writes the column?" I was so startled that I gave him a momentary blank look before responding, "As a matter of fact I am." I guess I've become so accustomed to keeping the two parts of my life separate that I'm always a little surprised when there's some overlap. Now that I think about it, he didn't mention liking/disliking the column so I'm not sure just how flattered I should be. I'm going to choose to see it as a compliment that he recognized me at all. Either way it made my day. I love being a pseudo-semi-sorta-kinda-celebrity in a small town!

Road Trip Diaries, pt. 1: Leaving Pitt County, jerk wings, and British Accents

Friday was one of the funnest, most exciting days I've had in a long time. Ever have one of those days where things just seem a little...better in some indefineable way? People's jokes seem funnier; the sky seems bluer; everything seems to hum with the certainty that life is good. I was so there yesterday.

I met up with Su, Ashlee, Morgan, and Paula at the G-Vegas Magazine office a little past noon. Ashlee and Morgan (two of our G-Vegas Magazine Cuties) were presenting an award at the Just Not Famous Enough Music Awards in Greensboro, and the rest of us were going along to take pics and provide support. The girls showed off their (gorgeous) dresses, while I tried to decide between the ties I wanted to wear with the all-black outfit I was planning on wearing. After grabbing a quick bite to eat at 'Sup Dawgs (freaking love that place) we settled in for the drive to Greensboro. Su, Mo, Ashlee and I were in the G-Vegasmobile, while Paula followed in her car. She was flying out of Raleigh the following day, so she needed to drive on her own. I felt bad letting her drive the whole way alone, but I needed to be in the truck with Su so we could plan our day and help the girls practice the script they'd been given for the presentation of the Alternative Music award.

Speaking of the G-Vegasmobile, I noticed something funny as soon as we left Pitt County. See, around here people are familiar with the magazine. So while I'm used to being stared at when I'm in the truck, it's mostly looks of recognition. People honk, wave, smile at us. The first time I drove the truck alone I felt like a rock star, lol. Once we left Pitt County, however, I could feel the recognition level slipping. People passing us on the highway gave us quizzical looks--at times I could read there lips as they read the G-Vegas logo that's emblazoned down the sides and back of the truck. So the girls and I decided to have some fun. We started smiling and waving when we'd catch people staring at us. Some quickly looked away, embarrassed at having been caught staring, while most smiled and waved back. One little girl stuck her arm out the window, waving wildly as her parents' car flew past us just outside of Raleigh. It was awesome.

Between prepping for the awards show, the girls and I spent most of the trip laughing and joking about random things. Since I was riding shotgun, I was designated dj, and I continuously scanned the radio looking for music to sing along to at the top of our lungs. We car-danced, told stories, and just generally had a blast.

In no time at all, we were in Greensboro. We decided to get some food, which turned out to be something of a challenge. We agreed on Chik-fil-a and parked the truck. When we walked down the street [on the way, we passed the F.W. Woolworths where the A&T students held their historic sit-in], and got to the doors of the restaurant, only to find them locked. The lettering on the doors indicated they closed at 3:30. Huh? We then went into an indoor shopping plaza, looking for more places to eat. Subway? Closed. Hibatchi Grill? Locked up tight. We finally got to a caribbean restaurant that was closed as well. A woman standing just outside the doors at the end of the corridor noticed us and came back inside. Seems she was the proprietress of the place, and upon hearing that we'd just gotten into town from Greenville, opened the place and heated up some food for us. It's been forever since I've had jerk chicken, but the wings I ordered were the best I've had in a long time. They were so spicy they made my lips tingle, but I couldn't get enough. We thanked her repeatedly and tipped generously.

I'd joked with the girls along the trip about how I sometimes like to do fake accents, so we agreed that I'd be "British" on the road trip. As we were paying and leaving the restaurant, the owner asked me, "Where you from? London?" Now, for those not in the know, if one is going to have a fake accent, one must also have an appropriate backstory. So when she asked where I was from, I had my story ready: in my most posh, Eastenders accent I responded "I was born in Trinidad but we moved to London when I was two." Paula studied her shoes, and out of the corner of my eye I could see Ashlee biting the corner of her lip. Hell, she damn near chewed through her lip trying not to laugh, lol. As soon as we got back into the corridor with the door safely shut behind us we burst out laughing, drawing some odd looks from a family that seemed to be on a similarly fruitless search for food.

Coming next in Part 2 of the Road Trip Diaries: the Just Not Famous Enough awards ceremony; "Makes me wanna hot dog reeeeaaaal bad"; and Back to G-Vegas with time to drink.