Crash

This is going to be various random [very random] trains of thought careening into brick walls at top speed, buckle the fuck up – it’s about to get scary.

Last night I attended a play with some lady friends of mine. I did not  have to pay these women to go with me. Well… I did pay the parking fee and that was 20 bucks which was almost what my dinner cost, so maybe I did buy their friendship. Hey, Josiah at Black Angus, [I like to call it the Black Anus] you need to work on your dinner service. It should not take 2 hours to flip a table of some bitches that are not being picky and asking you if they can leave. Take your biblical ass to the register, print out the magical little slip, that if you bring it us promptly, and return back to us in a reasonable amount of time, allows for you to receive a pittance.

As we were leaving the venue I noticed the people next to me left two wine glasses on the floor. Full. I’ve not hidden the fact that I’m in recovery - this was, by far, one of the worst cases of alcohol abuse I have encountered. I’m sure it was shitty wine, and sure it was served in plastic cups, but for fuck’s sake – you assholes paid 10 bucks a glass! Chug that shit! You want to waste 10 bucks? Give it to me. If you’re going to waste the wine, at least ask if others around you might want it, you thoughtless selfish fuckers. What is this world coming to? It nearly brought tears to my eyes. I felt myself walk past the glasses in slow motion, looking back at them with arms outstretched – like some drama movie where mother and daughter are torn from each other. I’m suffering the emotional hangover this morning. I really thought she [lady next to me] and I had a moment when we were singing “Time of My Life” together in the darkness while her husband sat motionless on the other side. Fuck you, Wendy [I’ve assigned her this name] you are dead to me now.

So my brain works in really fucked up and marvelous ways. On the car ride home my friend and I are discussing a myriad of topics which included but were not limited to the following: voyeurism, breast pumping during work meetings, breast milk being a scent that is inherently repugnant to most everyone and everything save for children and cats, the nipples of the actor who played Johnny Castle in the play, and holidays & divorce. That shit can really fuck a kid up in case you’re curious. It’s not the back and forth that hurts, that shit’s cool – we get to celebrate Christmas twice now. What blows is that my family used to celebrate Christmas Eve; after the divorce shit got fucked up and we started celebrating Christmas morning. What the hell??!! Not cool! As my son would say: “Christmas Day is for chumps.”

About 20 mins into this hodgepodge conversation, my friend looks out the window and says: “Oh, look! The carnival! I want to go to the carnival.” My immediate response without hesitation: “People get kidnapped from carnivals. Fuck that.” Enter Liam Neeson, just kidding, this blog sucked long before I tried to introduce the latest installment of Taken. Then, in my head and not out loud [because my singing voice is shoddy at best at 11pm,] I started singing Carnival by Bikini Kill. Some of you are scratching your head; don’t worry, I’ll include a link. You’re welcome.

We circled back to the couple that left the wine at the theater. That shit was really traumatic, yo. My friend told me about an incident at a bowling alley when she attempted to redistribute a half a pitcher of beer that was left behind by the group in the lane next her. When you’re an alcoholic, normal people leaving booze behind is really confusing to us. Both of us having been sober for a while, can laugh about this stuff. We really just want to make sure no cup goes empty. No one would take her up on this offer though. Wonder why? Some random chick walking up and down the lanes trying to give away a half a pitcher of beer seems legit, right? “Hey, want this beer? I didn’t piss in it” is what I tell her my "sell" would have been. I immediately see that there is a flaw. Why do I pole-vault over all the other options available? Why not lead with something like: “I didn’t spit in it”, “I didn’t stir it with my finger”, “it’s just a little warm”, or “we just have to leave”, etc.? Nope, I immediately jump right in with both feet: “I didn’t piss in it.” Now, this is all fiction at this point, but this is where my brain would immediately go first.  I’m that shade of fucked up.

The other day in traffic I played out an entire scenario. Stop me if you’ve heard this before.

Me: *walks up to vehicle, taps on window* Excuse me, yes…you driving this POS 93’ mahogany Chrysler. I’m going to need you to hand over your license. Nope, don’t give a shit about your registration, just fork over the plastic and get out of your vehicle.

Driver of POS: I’m sorry, I don’t understand.

Me: You wouldn’t

Driver: Is this a routine traffic stop?

Me: Routine? Yes. Traffic stop? No. Get out of the vehicle please; your license is being revoked.

Driver: Revoked??? I don’t understand. There has to be some mistake. Why?? I’m not on any drugs, I don’t have any warrants. What’s going on here?

Me: What’s going on here is that you’ve proven to be incapable of managing simple motor skills and rational thinking simultaneously. You, dicknose, have been sitting in a turn lane at a red light holding up traffic. This is not a “no turn on red” intersection; thereby YOU have impeded the forward momentum of at least 6 cars behind you. To make matters worse, you had been traveling at a mind-bending speed of 21 mph in a 35 mph zone for the last 2 miles on a one lane road. We’re all real happy about that too. Once the lane opened to an intersection, you weren’t paying attention because you can’t handle multiple tasks, and got in the wrong lane, so when the light turned green, you decided to go straight instead of turning. THAT is why we are here in this moment. Give me your license now and I’ll let your shit stain Pomeranian in the back window live and not take him home as a “treat” for my feral back-alley cat, Stella. She’d love to make it her bitch.  

Driver: *copious blinking*

That’s it. That’s where the story ends. My light turned green, I guess. I did decide that I truly think that we need better regulation license issuing. IQ testing and motor skills function testing; at least if an IQ test is in place I can’t call you a dumb motherfucker on the road. I have a vision of a happier America. We all get into our cars every morning to go to our places of employment – or wherever, and we’re so happy in the knowledge that other people on the road won’t be douchebags that flowers pop up out of the ground behind us as we drive. Birds circle us and we sing some happy joyous shit. Maybe some woodland critters come out and frolic in the…nah…no woodland critters; hunters shot them all down with big guns and hung them on mantles so other hunters could masturbate all over their shoes.  My bad. I don’t have a problem with guns. I have a problem with guns in the hands of people who can’t respect the power that they have and use them to kill arbitrarily. Yes, sport hunting is arbitrary.

Alright, I’ve stopped being funny, so I’ll throw in the song I said I would and we’ll call it quits. But hey, I did say my brain was fucked up and marvelous. You’re welcome to leave any time you like, but I really appreciate your continued reading.