Tuesday, November 01, 2005
Tittays and Poosays and Bootays
Short of writing x-rated stuff in my blog, I don't know how to get more readers, my dorklies. And I feel as if should court more readers, so that the pressure on you lovely people is lessened. I don't want you to feel burdened by the need to scan these humble lines and offer occasional commentary. It's too much for you. You damned apes.
Mama's a little hopped up on caffeine this morning, children. It happens periodically. Nothing to worry about; nothing to see here. But I needed something to get me going again after a couple of hours o' craplacaca out on the streets of pain this morning.
One would think that a town/state so accustomed -- particularly in the winter, which is also commonly referred to as "the rainy season" -- to a daily deluge would find its citizenry equipped to deal with the rigors of driving while it's wet out. But the grannies, daredevils, Looky-Lous, and assclowns on the streets this morning should all be stripped of their driving privileges! Or maybe not. Maybe I'm just crabby because the alternator on my car is shot, and I don't have the money to replace it. So, at the moment, I am just jumping my battery whenever the car doesn't start. Let me tell you something: being poor builds character, assholes. And it makes you social in a way you might not normally wish to be. I mean, if you have to ask each and every person at the gas station (where your car has most recently given up the ghost) if they have jumnper cables, you find out pretty quickly that most people are ok folks, and they would help someone out if they could.
The reason I was out at all this morning is because my evil genius roommate, who, like her wily weiner dog, believes that she is fooling someone with affection and enthusiasm but is really crapping in your room when you are not looking, talked me into driving her wack ass to work this morning! Now, those of you who watch this space know that I am currently not working on Mondays and Tuesdays so that I can work on the diss in the comfort of my quiet, empty home. Mondays and Tuesdays are Mama Time. And while it may take me a while to get going during the day, I normally get some crap turned out before turning in. But it is imperative that I be allowed to follow the beat of my own drummer, and fall into my day at my own pace. So, imagine my annoyance when, against a backdrop of thunderous rain, Bernie tries to convince me that I should drive her to work this morning, because she only has one working windshield wiper. I mean, of course, I want her to get to work safely. For fusk's sake. But man, I didn't want to go out in that crap any more than she did. Plus, because I'm not too sure about my car (see above), I didn't want to "waste" any start ups on trips down to SE Portland. But, on the crap-o-meter, "working windshield wipers + low battery power" beats "barely working windshield wiper + perfectly adequate battery power" during a bad rainstorm. Plus, The Bern picked me up for work Friday night when my car was not working at all, so I figured I owed her one more ride in the PoopMobile. Plus PLUS, we're both supposed to be phone-banking tonight at Planned Parenthood (down in the vicinity of her job) so, ecologically anyway, it made sense to take one car. Or it would make sense, if that one car wasn't mine. But hers doesn't have working windshield wipers. So we have to take mine. Only mine has a fucked alternator and may not start. So we should take hers. Only if it's still raining tonight and I have to pick her up I'll get into a fiery wreck and kill somebody on the streets of pain because this whole thing sucks! I hate my life!
Anyway, the only other thing to note is that I had very, very little gas when setting out to drop Bernie off, ok? And for Bernie, who is definitely reading this and getting steadily more defensive about the persecution she is sensing underlies this missive, I can only say that I am exxagerating some of my annoyance [but only some, mind you] for comedic effect. But seriously: no more of your "it makes perfect sense/ it's common sense. hey, I have an idea" bright ideas, ok? Because they always wind up biting me in the ass and making me talk to winos!
After fighting my way through the traffic all the way there (about 35-40 minutes) and fighting my way through the traffic most of the way home (another 35 minutes), I realized that I HAD TO stop for gas. Now, I was worried that my car wasn't going to start up again, but I had to risk it. After all, I figured that, after all that driving around, the battery should have a little bit of a charge in it, right? The chances were better it would start right back up again THEN, as opposed to LATER that night (when I have to pick up Her Royal Wackness for the phone banking). Well, I tossed the dice and came up snake eyes, dorklies. Turned off the car at the pump and that's all she wrote. A nice wino with a bag of half-eaten microwave popcorn kindly helped me push my car away from the pumps and into a parking space, from which another kind man eventually got my car to start.
I'm back home now, and I'm not looking forward to going back out there later. Obviously, I'm not chancing anything with the Poop Chute tonight, which means that I am taking Bernie's car, The Re-Jector. I can only hope that it's raining very heavily out there tonight and I get hit by a semi and die a quick death. Wish me luck!