On Wednesday morning I went running. I was running in a new place which always makes my awareness a bit heightened: cars, strange folks, trouble to make. By 7:00, the number of warming up, running cars had quadrupled and I could hardly control the urge to move the cars. Not steal, just change their spots.
Here's my vision: The whole of suburbia stepping out in their pea coats and briefcases to meet their commute, only wait a second...
"I could have sworn I started the car in the driveway. I'm going crazy. Well that's odd. Cuz now its at the end of the driveway. Why would I park at the end of the driveway? I must be going crazy."
"Good morning Dr. Klein!"
Dr. Klein is scratching her head looking at her Accord parked in front of Mr. Miller's.
It'd be like that annoying "little boxes" intro to Weeds, only askew and confused. Ha! I'd love it.
I'd just felt my impulse control wane and was peering into a Sentra, thinking of pulling it forward a half a car length when the driver laid on the horn. Scared the shit out of me. It put my impulse control back in check though.
Friday night I got drunk at happy hour with a former coworker and so showed up to my sister-in-law's 40th birthday party wasted. Strong start.
No one paid much attention though and we were off making chit chat. I was swapping stories with a friend of my sister-in-law's about trying to get a cab in Denver. (I have a nasty habit of getting "done" with an evening of drinking. And when I'm "done" I just leave. I don't say goodbye or remember to tell the people I came with or anything, I just leave.)
One night I'd gotten to my "done" point and called a cab only to have a pair of making-out lesbians steal it from me. The cab pulls up, I'm waving at it, they're waving at it, and they get in before me. Instead of a normal reaction of disappointment, (remember I'm at my "done" point,) I open the door and pull one of their shoulders back to stop the kissing and ask where they live and if I can share the cab. They did not react well. At this point in the story I'm loud and emphatic when I say, "I was pissed, my cab got stolen by lesbians. Twatlickers."
On this line, in walks my sister-in-law's sister: a lesbian.
Awesome.
I like this woman. I could give two shits about lesbians one way or another, I mean unless their stealing my cab. But I like this woman. And now I sound like a raving homophobe. Awesome.
I top the whole night off by getting back to the Meghannest's house and decided to jump on beds to figure out where to sleep. I head for Sam's room in the basement. Yes, I was stupid enough to jump on a bed in the basement. I whack my head on the ceiling and decide this is NOT where I will sleep. Head back upstairs and awake with a bump and a hangover and not sure which to credit with my headache.
It was a long, shameful walk back to my brother's to pick up the car.
Here's my vision: The whole of suburbia stepping out in their pea coats and briefcases to meet their commute, only wait a second...
"I could have sworn I started the car in the driveway. I'm going crazy. Well that's odd. Cuz now its at the end of the driveway. Why would I park at the end of the driveway? I must be going crazy."
"Good morning Dr. Klein!"
Dr. Klein is scratching her head looking at her Accord parked in front of Mr. Miller's.
It'd be like that annoying "little boxes" intro to Weeds, only askew and confused. Ha! I'd love it.
I'd just felt my impulse control wane and was peering into a Sentra, thinking of pulling it forward a half a car length when the driver laid on the horn. Scared the shit out of me. It put my impulse control back in check though.
Friday night I got drunk at happy hour with a former coworker and so showed up to my sister-in-law's 40th birthday party wasted. Strong start.
No one paid much attention though and we were off making chit chat. I was swapping stories with a friend of my sister-in-law's about trying to get a cab in Denver. (I have a nasty habit of getting "done" with an evening of drinking. And when I'm "done" I just leave. I don't say goodbye or remember to tell the people I came with or anything, I just leave.)
One night I'd gotten to my "done" point and called a cab only to have a pair of making-out lesbians steal it from me. The cab pulls up, I'm waving at it, they're waving at it, and they get in before me. Instead of a normal reaction of disappointment, (remember I'm at my "done" point,) I open the door and pull one of their shoulders back to stop the kissing and ask where they live and if I can share the cab. They did not react well. At this point in the story I'm loud and emphatic when I say, "I was pissed, my cab got stolen by lesbians. Twatlickers."
On this line, in walks my sister-in-law's sister: a lesbian.
Awesome.
I like this woman. I could give two shits about lesbians one way or another, I mean unless their stealing my cab. But I like this woman. And now I sound like a raving homophobe. Awesome.
I top the whole night off by getting back to the Meghannest's house and decided to jump on beds to figure out where to sleep. I head for Sam's room in the basement. Yes, I was stupid enough to jump on a bed in the basement. I whack my head on the ceiling and decide this is NOT where I will sleep. Head back upstairs and awake with a bump and a hangover and not sure which to credit with my headache.
It was a long, shameful walk back to my brother's to pick up the car.
Well, this is comforting, at least I'm not the only one who consistently fails at life!
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