Thursday, June 28, 2012

Debacle is an Awesome Word Until You Realize it Describes Your Life

Hey all! I was going to write a post entitled "The Great Car Debacle," but then some shit happened and I could've written "The Great Man Debacle ('great' here meaning big; I obviously am not keeping company with any great men)." Then some MORE shit happened that pushed this into "My LIFE is a Debacle" territory. Let me begin making you feel super awesome about your existence (I'm a giver):

My car is old. This is not news. When I broke down on the side of the interstate outside Ocala back in May, we had to replace the radiator and I had to stay in town overnight; all this to the tune of about $700. When that happened, my dad said "This is the LAST big repair we're doing to this car! *eye twitch*" So, I got back on my merry way almost 24 hours after I had started out. The car was fine all the way home and back. The next day I went to start it and...nothing. Turns out the battery was dead because my tail lights were staying on all the time. That was an easy fix so I was back on the road after only one week of having to disconnect the battery every time I left the vehicle and jump it when I got back. Fast forward one more week and my car won't turn over and is a giant paper weight for 2 weeks before I get it towed to a garage...where they want $500 for a tune-up that will supposedly make the car useful as a car instead of an outside closet with wheels. I pick the car up after the tune-up (at about 3pm; this is important in a minute) and it's driving great. I go home, post the obligatory "yay my car is fixed" facebook status, and decide I should go grocery shopping BECAUSE I CAN. I get 2 blocks from my house and the car is overheating (it is exactly 5pm). I call the guy at the car place and try to get it to them. Doesn't work. They come out to me and say we have to tow it again because I blew the head gasket. It was here I lost my shit and cried about life being unfair and blah blah blah: "EXCUSE ME, MISTER?! I blew the head gasket?? I think not, I drove it for maybe 10 minutes all combined. I invite you to suck my dick." So, then they want to do $500 more worth of work to fix the head gasket. I go to pick it up yesterday and they say "well it was running, but now that you're here, it's magically not. That'll be 5 more days." SO MUCH SAD. The story now though is that they're rebuilding my engine and putting a motor in that only has 90k miles on it, so I guess...yay?
Ever met a guy that you tried to date, but "I'm not ready for anything serious" he wanted you to take? Let me tell you the story of my situation, I was talking to a dude from the douchebag nation. The way that I met him was drunk at the pool hall, he had pretty eyes and just enough game. I drunk-shouted in his ear "YOU SHOULD GIVE ME YOUR NUMBER, so I can believe men other than Mikes want to see me naked (and also to see if you're hundred proof, obvs)" I asked him his name, all I heard was "not Mike" plus, he had a car and didn't live with his mom. We hung out a few times and he was enthused, recon asked "what's the deal?" He said I am very amused. But when I online dating stalked him, I found another story; all about how he was looking for 'a special somebody.' Come on! I'm not even going for it. You, you're not what I need, cause you say I'm just a friend, and you say I'm just a friend...But if I did these things with my "friends" I'd be the creepiest, whoriest (spell check wants this to be horsiest and I find that hilarious) friend ever. 
 The Pretty One came up last weekend because after the car thing and in light of the man thing I was in desperate need of best friend therapy. You may have heard there was a tropical storm all over my fair state, so it rained all day and night on Sunday. We decided to go out to the pool hall on Sunday night, so we gussied up (I even wore a dress!) and headed there after hitting the Olive Garden for an entire bottle of wine and making people uncomfortable. Before we left I gave The Pretty One my house keys and she put them on her key ring (this is important later). We play some pool, share some beers, have some fun; overall a good night. We head back to my place around 11:30 and it is POURING. When we get there I ask for my keys and we realize THEY AREN'T ON THE KEY CHAIN. So, we go back down to the car; can't find them. Call the bar; dumbest chick there says no one has found any keys. Call a locksmith; fifty bucks to get me in. We decide to retrace our steps (I should point out there were SO many frogs out and I was losing my shit) so we go back to the bar and ask again; she still says they don't have them, we check the table and the bathroom. Find nothing. We drive all the way back across town to Olive Garden (they're closed). At this point, The Pretty One is all pissy blaming herself and shit and I am convinced that I'm having a psychological break. We're both looking like drowned rats already so I start dancing around the Olive Garden parking lot, jumping in puddles and shit. Totes fun. We don't find the keys. Go back to the apartment and call the locksmith, guy comes out (it was the same guy who had to get me into my car last month!), The Pretty One and I are all wild eyes, running mascara and limp hair by this point. So, the guy picks my lock (giggity?) and says "Don't tell anyone I did this for free" We must have been horrifyingly pathetic to behold.  
This post is super long, but I needed to make up for the lack of posting, so I guess you can read one debacle a sitting if you can't make it through. 

1 comment:

  1. Your misery made me laugh. Of course, had I been there, I would have been the one crying for you, making things far worse.