The Middle Class

I – like a solid portion of my audience in all likelihood – come from a middle class family.

Seldom have I felt like anything in the world was out of my grasp, and I generally assume that if I want to do something, there will be a way to do it if I’m willing to work hard enough.

Guys, This Bus Sucks

The bus is late. This shouldn’t be a surprise, but it is.

As a clunky green giant pulls up, looking a bit like a dilapidated, heavily curtained refrigerator from the 70’s, the contrast between my ride and the other, sparkly, shiny, clean and friendly Argentine buses is clear.

The Bar at the End of the World

I’m on my third beer, this one is green.

It’s the local specialty; so local in fact that it’s named after the bar I’m sitting in. ‘Dublin,’ the label proudly reads. Made by Beagle, the brand I’ve been drinking since I’ve been here. Dublin is the only place in town where you can find other people this time of night, any day of the week.