Wes Wakeham, the narrator of Richard B. Wright’s first novel, The Weekend Man, makes a heroic effort to fight the boredom of his life as a salesman in suburban Toronto. He introduces chance into the day.
Every morning, he chooses his route to work by lottery. A jar on the counter of his kitchenette contains 18 pieces of paper on which he’s written detailed routes. The shortest takes about five minutes. The longest, “which I have called the Jumbo Route,” takes him down all the back streets and requires half an hour. His iron rule
calls for him to follow whatever directions he blindly pulls out of the jar. In this way he’s managed to make part of his life unpredictable and rendered the very geography of his surroundings alien.