CUP HALF FULL
LIVINGSTONE, Zambia The guide dumps vodka into my Coke. "Try not to think about it," she soothes.
"But I was an idiot," I moan. "I'm a travel writer. I should know better."
She flashes a stern, maternal glance. "You can't let this ruin your trip."
"I know, I know. I just need to brood a bit."
"Vodka always helps," she laughs.
Sulking out the window, I spot a giraffe. A pale white giraffe my first au natural gawks and nibbles through the roadside scrub. Whoa. That's why I'm here. Africa and Animals are the point, not earning my Savvy Traveler Merit Badge.
"You know," I turn to Bill, a retired theater professor. "Maybe the thief really needed that money, much more than I did. Maybe her child is sick and my birthday cash will pay for critical medicine."
"Now Amanda, you're a very nice person. But you need to consider all the angles," he replies. "Maybe she's an addict and it'll push her into an overdose."