Friday night, after I left work late, missing my bus to the shore by about 4 hours, I ran down a major avenue in NYC, tripping over my heels, weekend bag bringing me down almost as much as my current work situation. Hot tears blurred my vision as I tried to run from my life and escape this City; as I climbed down into the steaming hot belly of Gotham to wait for the E train, I passed one of those Jesus Freaks.
You know, handing out brochures claiming that �Jesus Loves Us?� I literally stopped in my tracks, sweaty, hot, teary and tired, and I gave that man that evilest eye I could pull out.
I think what you *mean* sir, is that Jesus Loves to Fuck with Me. That�s what Jesus loves.
I have decided that God put me on this earth as entertainment for him/her. I am God�s personal performing seal! God gets bored, decides to fuck with Partygirl. Bad day at the office for God - broken heel for the Partygirl. People acting up in the Middle East � Partygirl gets sent on a trip and loses her wallet mid-layover and is stuck somewhere until she figures out how to resolve it.
I ask you, is this the loving God that I was taught for 17 years of Catholic school???? I. Think. Not.
*~*
So I get out of here Friday on a 10PM bus. I tried calling my parents for 4 hours straight to tell them I was arriving late, but the phone just rang and rang. Around 9PM, I wasn�t sure if I should even leave to go down there based on the fact that I had no ride and wasn�t sure how to track them down. This, compounded with being overtired and hosting an overdose of female hormones conducting their own personal rave in my body, created a meltdown.
I tried to pull myself together and basically said, fuck it. I�m getting on a bus and if worse comes to worse, I�ll sleep in the bus station. I arrived at my destination after midnight. I called my parent�s and there was still no answer. At this point, I was tearing up, in a bus terminal, on a pay phone as some junkie tried to pick me up. I ignored him for a while but when he tried to touch me, I just lost my shit.
It�s been a while since I�ve seen a grown man that afraid of me. He shrank before my eyes, backing away as if I pulled a weapon, which I did - my tongue. I don�t fuck around in situations like this.
I tried to track down friends and family but it was late and everyone was out partying. I was beat. I counted my money and trepidaciously approached the taxi�s outside.
Looking as forelorn as possible, I found out I had just enough cash to get me to my parents, a couple of towns over. I nearly wept, but I was too tired. Mid-way through the taxi ride, the driver tried to change his price. I ignored him and pretended I did not hear him. It�s a 25 minute ride. Well, it would have been a 25 minute ride, had I stayed in that taxi.
But I didn�t. I�d HAD it. I�m not paying 30 bucks to hear a foreign taxi driver bitch about how far my destination is or how he won�t be able to find his way back. That�s not my problem buddy. This is your JOB. I don�t get paid to say, �I don�t know.� I get paid to find out. Shit like this pisses me off.
So I got out of the taxi about 6 blocks from my place. I didn�t want to hear it anymore. I said, �You know what? I don�t want to inconvenience you anymore, please pull over.� The guy was like, �wha..?� and I said, �PULL OV-ER.� I gave him his money and tip, took my bag, lit up a smoke and hit the pavement. I may have to walk, but at least I don�t have to listen to a grown man whine like a bitch in heat.
I have no time for whining, I cover that on my own.
So I got home around 1:30AM Saturday morning. Saturday, when I woke up I broke it down for my parents and checked the phone to see if it was in working order, which in perfect form, the ringer was off. We all had a good laugh about that. Actually, they had a good laugh, I had the I�m-laughing-because-I-am-thinking-how-you-will-pay-one-day-in-senior-managed-care.
I thought I would take advantage of being out from behind my voodoo workstation and go for a bike ride to see my brother�s new place. I got about 6 blocks into it, when a thunderstorm started. I am talking torrential downpour. At this point, one of my brother�s friends drove by and threw me his slicker. Actually he offered me a ride, but I was already soaked. He mentioned that he was heading over to another friends and invited me.
I ran a few errands, and headed over to the friend�s place, where I proceeded to self-medicate myself for a very long afternoon session. It was great. It was *really* great.
Saturday night, I was still beat. I went over to another friend's for some beers and other things and I split as they all prepared to head out to see a local band at 12:30am. I just couldn�t pull it out.
Okay, I need to end this now. Seeing my newly lame life in print is depressing me. I plan on getting out of here on time tonight, and going out for drinks for the first time in weeks. And going to see a band. Hopefully there will be some excitement to report tomorrow.
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