“That one. I need that one. I also need a Pop-Tart.” The man named “Tostitos Tyler” said as he impatiently inched back and forth on his hoverboard. It was after 5 a.m. and the morning was not going well for Hollywood’s most infamous hoverboarder. He had already had to yell at this worker after not getting his spaghetti, now this. Now the breakfast pastries were the next threshold to cross. “The one Pop Tart. Right there. It’s a S’more Pop-Tart,” he pleaded. The thick glass between Tyler and the cashier at the all-night gas station and food stop might as well have been an allegory for the separation of their culture, their way of life and their souls. Was it a few inches thick, or a few miles?
As the worker struggled with Tyler’s order, the man on the hoverboard’s heart sank, putting to bed the theory that once on a hoverboard, you can never hit rock bottom.