dropping a dart

I consulted an American buddy yesterday. He's one of the most unAmerican Americans I know. In that he hasn't only left his state, he left the country. And now lives in London.

He's not particularly loud.

He's also travelled and lived all over the States, so he was the best person to ask about where to go.

"Don't go to Indiana, dog. You won't get out alive."

I trust this dude.

He helped supervise the the dart game to give me this shortlist - in order to determine where I should go on a free weekend after a work trip to San Francisco in October.

1) Des Moines, Iowa. Un. Lucky.

2) Anywhere, Vermont. (Dart didn't land near a town)

3) Santa Fe, New Mexico (Now this could be feasible. I've heard it's beautiful)

4) Helena, Montana. (Brad Pitt is from here. Given he's old, now lives in Malibu and fucks Angelina Jolie - should I still go?)

5) Juneau, Alaska. (Good one.)

My American buddy:

"Your dart just landed on Alaska. What are the chances."

Peas: Well that's a no.

"You should just stick to the original plan and go to New Orleans like you wanted to."

Peas: I really want to go. But two problems. One: it's a four hour flight from San Francisco across two time zones. Two: My dart didn't land anywhere near there.

"Fine. I'd say Montana. That place sure is beautiful."

Peas: By myself though?

"Well sure."

Peas: What about Wyoming, what's that like?

"It's a shit hole. My mother's from there."

Peas: OK. What about...Little Rock, Arkansas?

"It's a terrible fucking place."

Peas: OK what about Texas?"

"There's no reason for you to visit Texas."

Peas: Why?

"Well...unless you like Woody Nelson. Then you can check out Austin."

Peas: No. How about..Oregon?

"Yeah...I mean, actually yeah that might be OK."

Peas: OK? Isn't it really pretty?

"Yeah I guess. Ooh wait, actually it is."

So. I'm hiring a car, driving up the northern coast of California and into Oregon.

I might be bringing some team mates with me, but for now, Oregon is ON.