City Tramper

By Frank Penner

City Tramper follows the true story of Frank, a cynical young twenty something that decides to quit his desk job in New Zealand and travel through the United States of America. His misadventures and escapades take you haphazardly through Los Angeles, San Francisco, Chicago, New York and Washington as he learns a little bit about American culture and life in the city. Prepare for a colorful and sometimes jarring read as his unusually frank thoughts and opinions echo strongly through the pages. This unabridged version is not suitable for children as it contains adult themes including sex, drug use and excessive swearing.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Frank Penner
• Release date: Apr 3, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311435941

Frank Penner

Frank by name, frank by nature. Frank is a young traveler who went on a trip and wrote about it.

Book preview

City Tramper

Copyright 2016 Frank Penner

Smashwords Edition

Table of Contents

Chapter 1: Dismounting the Desk

Chapter 2: Unprepared Preparations

Chapter 3: Lift Off

Chapter 4: Lost Angels

Chapter 5: To Venice

Chapter 6: Son of a Beach

Chapter 7: Moon Pad

Chapter 8: Land of the Free

Chapter 9: Rails

Chapter 10: Some Warf

Chapter 11: The Mart

Chapter 12: Googleperplexed

Chapter 13: Stranger Danger

Chapter 14: Lazy Training

Chapter 15: Chicagogo

Chapter 16: New to the York

Chapter 17: The Apple

Chapter 18: Party to the Marty

Chapter 19: Two Holes and One Big Tower

Chapter 20: Brokeland

Chapter 21: Bus to Obama

Chapter 22: Check Out My Rocket

Chapter 23: Getting the Fuck Out

Chapter 1: Dismounting The Desk

23rd June 2014

Fuck yeah. I rubbed my knees with satisfaction, my latest non-work-work project was nearing completion. After three years with my eyeballs stuck to a computer screen, it was time to move on. Move up. My stomach felt a bit dubious. I probably could have blamed the leftover pizza I had for lunch and never fridged, but I don’t think it was that. Another quick glance at my screen determined that my resignation letter was probably finished. It looked long enough anyway. I really did like my job and especially the people working there but I would rather be be fucked with a rusty soup ladle than ride a desk job for even one more year.

My immediate boss, Rick, was a classic computer guy. He had glasses and a smile that hinted that he knew something that you didn’t. He had keen intellect and often smelled of the Holiday cigarettes that he smoked. I had a good relationship with him and had mentioned to him that I had decided to leave and travel for a while. At some point that prick had escalated this information to the head dude (Marty) in NZ. This was the real reason for my tummy-turns. Marty, who was quite an important dude really, had caught me at an unexpected moment and told me to formalise my notice so that they could begin looking for new peeps. Suddenly it was all real. Shit. No security. Fuck all money. No real plan. I hadn’t even bought a ticket yet.

I hit print and sheepishly took the letter into Marty’s office. If you change your mind at any time before you leave, come straight here and we will burn this, he said brandishing the letter. Somehow he sensed my hesitation. I got the hell out of his office and suddenly felt better. Fuck it. There is no way I can change my mind now. In a few short weeks I will be clicking closed my seatbelt on a plane destined for LAX.

Chapter 2: Unprepared Preparations

11th Aug

Here I am sitting on the couch that is also my bed. I have left my flat in Wellington in New Zealand and returned to my Mother’s place in Nelson to visit some family before I go. Home has never been home since I moved out and Mum moved into a house with no room for me. I have no real room and pretty much no stuff left. I like it.

I have been trying to sort out where the fuck I am going to go and how the fuck I am going to get around the strange land that is America. Found couch surfing website. Looks good, free accommodation and an opportunity to meat some sweet peeps to share a ride and some adventures with. Website useableness is a bit shit and if I subscribe to any groups or forums then my (in)box gets raped. I kinda like that though, it keeps me in the know.

The plan so far:

Spend 4 days in Auckland (it’s kind of the capital of NZ for those that haven’t been there) I’m keen to say goodbye to some good cunts up there as well as spend a bit of time with Dad - I have planned two days for each (Good cunt is the highest praise among friends in NZ, it is sometimes abbreviated to GC)

Take my flight to LA and travel back through time (somehow) to land about four hours before I take off

Buy some shit in LA, I have prepared to be unprepared because I reckon things are cheaper in America right? Need new cell phone, some shoes, a jacket and another pair of pants. You would think I would already have that shit sorted

Other LA shit? Hollywood, Universal Studios etc.

Somehow travel to Santa Barbara, try find the Psych office

Move on to San Fran. Check out google. Meat up with some peeps.

Figure out a way to get to New York. Flying is for chumps though, some other way

Leave the States and find refuge in Canada

So far I have organised:

A plane ticket to LA for tomorrow

Partially packed carry-on luggage - suitcases are for posers

A flexible attitude

Chapter 3: Lift off

12th Aug

Wheels touch down. Fuckn good flight. Tailwind, fast plane, empty row, reclining seats. Perfect. I could only hope my flight to LA would be this good. I stepped forth into Auckland airport to begin the first leg.

I gently fingered a wad of tinfoil in my pocket. A heavy decision was looming. I often waste a lot of time trying to think of the best possible solution and this was no exception.

Option 1: Smuggle the foiled LSD in my anus onto the plane then take it just after take-off.

Option 2: Sneak it into the toilets before security and take it just before the security checks.

Option 3: Sneak it into my bag and claim no knowledge if they find it.

Option 4: Forget about the acid entirely and leave it here in Auckland.

There was many pros and cons for each option, for example option one has the pro that LSD would make the flight more interesting and taking it on the plane would provide a more relaxing trip however an obvious con is that I could get it stuck in my anus and not be able to get it at all without an embarrassing doctor's trip. I had four days to decide so fuck it, I’ll figure it all out later.

My mate Steven picked me up from the airport and the weekend commenced. We had a mean dinner with some peeps that I knew from Wellington then headed back to Mandy and Louise’s for more drinks. Got to meat a potential new boy for Steven and watched as he was raped with questions and comments from Mandy and Louise’s flatmate Lisa. Lisa is fast talking and blunt as fuck. Naturally, I love her to bits.

We crashed on some couches and the floor at Mandy’s for the rest of the night but got woken up fuckn early because of a garage sale that they had starting at seven. Back to Stevens with his boy. They had a ‘nap’ (gay sex) and I set off for a walk to explore Point Chevileir in Auckland. Steven reckoned that there was a beach somewhere to the left so I set off with a tired trudge. I had had minimal sleep but figured that that was something that I should get accustomed to. Thirty minutes later a shitty little sign that said boat ramp came up. Fuck it, the beach must be fuckn ages away still so I snuck down to this boat ramp to see the water. I pulled out a poorly rolled doobie and quietly looked out over the water enjoying my early morning jay.

I resumed my mission to the beach. For some reason it was far more important now and time slipped away very quickly. I almost immediately arrived at the beach just under an hour later. The beach was a bit shit really. There were cool terraces coming down but the sand was dull and bland. I watched a dog for a bit and then some douche with a kite. It was nice for a while but I preferred the boat ramp. Eventually, I decided to head back to Stevens.

Fast forward to Stevens. Slowly open the door. Still, stoned as fuck. Two peeps that I had only really briefly seen yesterday were having a really intense conversation about someone owing someone money. Better not interrupt them. I crept passed them and sat down at the table and logged into Steven’s laptop. After about twelve minutes they finally stopped yammering and I announced my presence. They knew I was there and had assumed that some random homeless dude just crept in and started playing with this laptop.

I saw Steve’s boy leave so I waited a few minutes and barged into his room so that we could continue the day. I spent the rest of the day in a bit of a hazed stupor, trying to fight the hangover with small quantities of THC.

Next day Dad (Marty) picked me up just after I made my decision. I dropped the drop of acid with the rest of my weed into Stevens draw. I think I was more afraid of Dad finding it than I was of customs. Realistically, the risk was just too high. My bag smelled a bit of the remenants of Mary Jane so I was likely to be searched. Also, I was trying to get away with a couple jars of Marmite spread to give to my mate so I knew my bag would be searched anyway.

My time with Dad was good. He currently is homeless and lives in a van so he booked us a sweet as motel looking out on to the harbour bridge in Auckland. We visited some relatives, went on a few small tramps around Auckland and ate fancy meals. I really enjoyed seeing my great aunt who was very sparky for a 100-year-old woman. It was good to visit her because it might be the last time I ever see her although Dad has been telling me that for years. Tramp is a New Zealand word