Hitchhiked for the first time.

Giles drove us home.

Jenna and I spent the day in Cirencester, a stone village dripping with ivy and teeming with shops and restaurants.

On our way back to Ampney Crucis, we persisted along a stretch of road with zero shoulder. We leaped into some variety of rashy prickles to avoid a strand of antique roadsters screaming by at double the speed limit. At a fork in the road, we tried to call every number we knew. Nobody answered.

So we stuck out our thumbs.

Maybe 10 cars later, a minivan backed up towards us.

“Are you actually hitchhiking?”


“I thought you were just taking a selfie! Get on in! Ah, you’ll need to move the car seat.”

Giles was a fatherly samaritan who reminisced about his days hitchhiking north to Scotland where he met an American man named Richard.

“Do you know him?” he asked.

Of course we did.

Tonight, we listed all of our projects and ranked them by priority. We’re making moves and it’s thrilling. We decided to name our company Oui C’est.

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