Fuck Timothy Leary

She was sitting on the still wet ground outside of Peet's Coffee and Tea with several backpacks, a garbage bag filled with clothes and one of those silly plastic skateboards with roller blade wheels and a hinge in the middle. I figured her to be the child of working class parents. Maybe her folks were assholes, maybe they were very nice people who missed their daughter. They could even be both I suppose.

Her hat was flipped up and on the bill she'd written "Tune in, turn on, drop out."

I wanted to tell her "Hey, the guy that popularized that saying had a fucking book deal! And a nice degree to fall back on. Don't listen to that trust fund asshole."

Then I though of her peers, most of whom were probably studying subjects they didn't care about on their way to work jobs they hated as they watched the years race by at amazing speeds.

So, I bought her something warm to drink and shared more practical advice. "Hey, having this drink in your hand they have to let you sit inside where it's dry and warm."

She said "Thanks man." in a really sincere voice that made me want to give her a hug. I drove back to my shitty job. Fuck Timothy Leary.