“Sorry, we can’t insure you for a journey like that,” said the travel agent. She had straight brown hair that just about touched her shoulders. A name tag that said ‘Melissa’ was clipped on her crisp blue button down shirt. She had an engagement ring on her finger, which she kept glancing at, probably hoping I’d ask about it. I wouldn’t.

“Why not?” I asked, frustrated. I had planned this all out in my head and it worked out fine. I knew I shouldn’t have bothered coming here, insurance was such a scam.

“Well, because the things you want to do on your vacation aren’t actually legal,” Melissa looked at her computer screen instead of at me when she said this.

“What do you mean, ‘illegal’?” I leaned back in my chair and crossed my legs. Showing irritated body language was something adults did often, and as of today I was a full eighteen year old adult.

The travel agent sighed and as she clicked stuff on her computer very importantly. I didn’t expect a problem when I set up the meeting, my parent had used this company before when they went on their honeymoon and then later when they took the family to Disney.

“I can’t let you go play golf on the White House lawn,” Melissa said slowly as if I, a full adult, wouldn’t be able to understand her if she spoke at regular speed.

“I said I’d pay anything,” I interjected, not seeing what the problem was.

“No, look, you just can’t do that,” she looked agitated, “And you also can’t book all of the luggage space on a flight to Egypt.”

“Okay, I’m starting to understand the whole ‘no golfing allowed on White House lawn’ thing, but why on Earth can’t I do that?”

“Because nobody just does that! There would be other passengers!” Melissa was angry now, fidgeting with her engagement ring.

“Well I can’t afford to book the whole plane! Does it look like I can afford that?”

“You just said you could afford to book the White House lawn to golf! You’re not even eighteen years old, I can’t sell you insurance!” Melissa bitterly threw my notebook across the table. I snatched it up, giving her a nasty glare.

“Of course I am! It’s the twenty sixth! I can now vote, book my own vacations, play golf on the White House lawn, and fly to Egypt without any luggage! I can do whatever I want!” I stood up and crossed my arms, which sounds childish but it actually is supposed to make you look chic and cool. Or at least that’s what the internet said.

Melissa looked down at her planner and back to me, confusion apparent on her face before saying: “Today is the twenty-fifth.”

I looked at her, and then checked my phone. It was indeed the twenty-fifth. I didn’t know I should have felt embarrassed or frustrated, but I’m pretty sure both emotions were there. I inhaled deeply.

“Alright then. I will be back tomorrow with a different, quote ‘legal’ unquote, itinerary,” I said, emphasizing my words with finger quotes.

“Tomorrow is Sunday, we’re closed,” Melissa told me as I was walking out of the room. I turned stiffly around.

“Monday, then,” I gave her a forced smile, and closed the door.

I took a pen out of my purse and opened my notebook. I drew a line through to bullet points and read through the rest, circling three.

“First I’ll book Buckingham Palace for a private party, then I’ll go skydiving into the ocean sans a parachute, after which I’ll drink pineapple juice while I scuba dive in the ocean I skydived into. Not what I originally planned, but it’s fine I guess.”