To sum up the year:

Today, while in Oregon, I stopped to get gas. To the stoned-out gas attendant, who had a man-bun And whose name was Jordan, I handed a 100 dollar bill. I waited and watched The Dutch Bro’s line across the median Slowly tick down as the gas dial quickly ticked up. Stop. $30.15 Jordan returned. “Okay, here is 85 cents.” He counts my bills out. “And we have 20 40 60 65 and, uh... 69 dollars.” He shyly smirks. And we both laugh. A laugh shared with a stranger. The opposite of irony is wrinkly And the human connection still remains. Hasta la vista, 2015.