You are Justin, and you are peddling your bike excitedly because tomorrow is your 18th birthday. You're lost in thought about all the things you can now do, like register to vote, not that you even bother to follow politics, or buy cigarettes, not that you have an intention to take up smoking you reassure your lungs. You round the corner thinking of being able to buy playboys, which you reassure your penis will happen as soon as you can get away from tomorrow's inevitable party, when suddenly you flip over your handle bars.
Picking yourself off the ground you realize you ran over an old lady, an old lady that had to be the definition of ugly as sin, your rampant imagination pictures her face in the dictionary as the definition of "God damn!" Attempting to stifle a laugh you pick your bike up and utter "sorry dude" and ride home.
Your mother is strangely quiet which excites you, she's only quiet when she's hiding a surprise from you. Your father on the other hand won't shut up talking about the mantles of manhood, rights of passages, the occasional stripper jokes aimed at your mom make the both of you giggle like the numbskulls you are.
Later after dinner pr you're too excited to sleep so you check Facebook and respond to the happy birthday wishes from friends, you linger on Rachel's the love of your life since 2nd grade, if only you had the balls to tell her. Maybe tomorrow you think, after all you're a man now you think as you fall asleep.
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