You can tell a lot about a person by how they do things different. When it comes right down to it, everyone does the same things. How each person does those thing, that’s where you can see who they are. Take for instance a group of friends, all seated around a camp fire.
Now this group of friends, kids to be perfectly frank. Not that they weren’t legally adults, but the difference between a legal adult, and an actual adult is rather large. So where were we? Right with a group of kids in the woods.
They weren’t very deep in the woods, only about twenty or so meters from the access road they had parked on. It was an access road for a reason however, not paved, or even maintained for the last couple of years. Jared’s old four wheel drive truck was the only car these kids had access to, that could make it down this road. So they might have been able to drive there, but it was still in the ass end of this particular set of trees.
At one point it could have been called a temperate forest, but that was years ago. Now several logging operations had kind of ruined that for everyone. Those operations had all been shut down. Not for the stated reasons of course, those were all, deforestation, global warming, and some rare fuzzy thing is going extinct. Nope the real reason was some really rich dude built a cabin in the woods and wanted the loggers gone. It happened quickly, this left some locals to scratch their heads wondering what had just happened.
With the loggers gone the woods were given a chance to recover. It also left a whole bunch of access roads leading to nowhere, in disrepair. Much like the one this group of kids were using.
I had a point about doing things differently, please bare with me, I’ll get to that. Anyways, kids in the woods with their campfire.
Lets start with Jared, the one who provided transportation. His secondhand old truck was something of a masterpiece of engineering. Not like race car engineering, that managed to get the best possible performance out of the best possible parts. No, it was a masterpiece in that it could still be started even though it consisted of the cheapest of parts well beyond their warranties.
Jared was the mechanic that made that possible. His way of doing things reflected that. For instance with his marshmallows. He was making them right. He had found a nice stick, about the length of his forearm, with a Y at the end. He stripped off the bark of the Y portion, and sharpened the two ends. This allowed him to cook two marshmallows at the same time.
And he did it good too. He would roast them till they were browning and crisp on the outside, but perfectly gooey on the inside. He would then sandwich the two marshmallows between a piece of chocolate and two gram crackers. Making perfect fucking s’mores every damn time.
Now, unlike the methodical Jared, Christen was the impatient type. He didn’t bother to search for a good stick, or roast his marshmallows to perfection. He would just grab a handful from the bag and munch on them. Between sips from his beer of course. None of them could buy beer yet, but Christen’s fake id was good enough to get around that.
Because while Christen was impatient, he didn’t like doing things twice. So, like his marshmallows were he only put in the required amount of effort. His id was good enough to buy beer. From that one liquor store were between the hours of 15:00 and 23:00 the cashier was an old man, who needed new glasses. Except on Thursdays, that he had off. On Thursdays instead was the post-doc that had been Christen’s babysitter when he was younger, and would totally call his parents if he tried to buy beer from her.
Next we have Lilliana. Sweet Lilliana, who Jared had a crush on since forever. She didn’t like marshmallows, could even tell you why in three languages, and was working on a fourth. If you were to ask she would go on some rant about where they come from, or possible about artificial stuff, or just plain not liking the taste. Not that she would allow herself to go hungry. She was roasting home made sausages. Her father begin both a hunter and a farmer had made sure his daughter knew what to do with a caracas.
These sausages for instance she had a hand in making from start to finish. Including the creation of the corpse necessary to get started. Being the sweet kind girl she was Lilliana had offed to share. But the others had seen her making them, and were not inclined to take her up on the offer.
The only other girl was Ashley, the energetic one of the bunch. She liked doing things, and since they had come out her supposedly to cook marshmallows and tell stories, she was doing to cook some damn marshmallows. Even if she wasn’t going to eat them. Something about maintaining her perfect figure.
Who knew why, the girl was the smallest of the bunch, and her ass was just the right size for her boyfriend to bounce up and down on his lap. She was of course kind of doing that herself as she kept getting up from his lap to go get more marshmallows to cook. She would then feed them to him, practically shoving them down his throat. Something he was use to, according to the gossip around the metaphorical water cooler.
Ashley’s boyfriend was named Frank. He of course wasn’t making his own marshmallows, Ashley was too busy giving him burnt ones. But he was keeping an eye on the fire, and adding more wood when needed. He was also the one who had set up the fire pit in the first place, several years ago. Eventually of course Ashley got to him, with her constant wiggling about on his lap, and all.
Eventually the two of them went off deeper into the woods to take care of business. While their friends remained with the fire telling stories of their sexual escapades that totally happened.
There might have been a point to all of this, but it got lost somewhere along the line. I’m going to arbitrarily blame Jared, just because. Anyways the next time you’re with a group a friends supposedly doing the same thing, take a look and see how they are doing it differently.