When I was younger, me and a girl I was dating decided to go on a trip. It was a Saturday night, if I recall. We just got in the car, and drove. A few hours later, we ended up at the U.S. border, and decided to cross. It was about midnight.
The border guard was suspicious as he should be.
Guard: “Where are you going?”
“We don't know.”
Guard: “How much money do you have on you?”
Guard: “What are you going to do when you run out of money?”
“Withdraw more from the bank.”
Guard: “What if your bank card doesn't work?”
“I have a credit card.”
Guard: “What if your credit card doesn't work?”
“I guess I'd call my mom and get her to wire me some money.”
Guard: “Where's your suitcase?”
“Don't have any.”
Guard: “Open the trunk.”
He really didn't have any reason to stop us, but you could tell he didn't want to let us cross. He mumbled something about it being a really busy Saturday night and that he probably should send us to be searched, but they were too busy and had to keep the line moving. And he let us through.
Sometimes you just have to go on an adventure, spontaneously.
Not all the time. Not every time. But sometimes someone asks you a question that is usually an automatic no. But for whatever reason, you're feeling odd that day. And you say yes.
My ex-girlfriend and I spontaneously driving to the United States for an overnight trip (we slept in my car, in the parking lot of McDonald's if I recall) becomes a story that I still tell 30 years later.
Maybe next week brings a new story that I'll tell 30 years from now. We'll see.