Oh, the exciting life I live!
I think most people look forward to the weekend so that they can attend fabulous parties, do cool stuff I’ve never heard of, and generally just have a ball beginning Friday night and lasting until the late hours on Sunday.
I, on the other hand, leave work on Friday evening smiling, ever hopeful that I’ll be a part of the weekend fun, but knowing that since I have nothing planned, the chances for excitement are slim to none.
Slim to none. Damn.
I imagine myself a party chick, a fun person – maybe even one of the cool kids.
On Friday, immediately after work, I went to the first meeting of the Science Fiction Book Club that I started. There were five of us there discussing the book, Starship Troopers, by Robert Heinlein. We talked for about two hours and parted, secure that every single point made in the novel was discussed repeatedly from every angle. I only drank sweet tea (unlike others and you know who you are!) so I can’t blame gin for my geekiness this time. I guess I just love gatherings like this with other sci-fi lovers. (Anyone is welcome to join – send me an email.)
After an exciting ride home on public transportation I began my Friday evening ritual: I turned on the TV and watched crap until Adrian got home from work and took over posession of the remote so that he could righteously take over the control of the crap we watched until I went to bed.
Saturday morning held the promise of possible excitement and I suppose fighting for a dryer at the laundromat might be considered excitement by some. I get pissed when people wash their clothing elsewhere, and try to grab up all the dryers so that we suckers with clothes in the wash get stuck waiting in the non airconditioned space for a lot longer than needed. I’ll admit it: I’m a snitch sometimes. I asked the attendendant to limit the dryers the “washed my shit elsewhere” lady could use and she was pissed with me. Pissed probably doesn’t really cover it. The young chippie threw me a few looks of death and mumbled under her breath, but I stood firm in my righteousness and used the very dryer she had her cold little heart set on. Ha!
After all the excitement (cue crickets) it was time to take my 15 year old son to get his weekly braids. He uses a different hairstylist or salon every week, so I never know where we need to go and how much the braids will cost me. He likes to surprise his old mom, not with gifts, but with situations. He was the kid who would tell me in the car, on the way to school that he needed exactly $3.27 (no checks) in a legal envelope that very morning so that he could go on the trip with his class, “it’s the last day, Mommy!”.
This week, my wonderful (dripping with sarcasm) ex-husband decided to put his spin on things so that I learned AFTER I drove to his house and waited in the Atlanta heat and humidity for days it seemed, that in celebration of Father’s Day, he would be taking our child to the hairdresser although my participation in payment was still required. He’d call me later to let me know.
Hot and annoyed I decided to stop for gas on the way home. There were lines since the price for regular was only $2.89. I finally made it close to a pump – the guy in front of me had a mid-sized car, so I didn’t anticipate a long wait.
Dude decided to wash his windows with the convenient squeegie and the free inky water (that’s NEVER changed) at the side of the pump. Usually it’s cool, since it takes time to fill up a tank. The only problem was that dude wasn’t gassing up. He was window washing. Yup – On one of the hottest, sweatiest days of the year, this fine young cannibal decides to wash his windows KNOWING that there was a long line of hot and sweaty people waiting to buy gas.
Once he finished his car hygeine he begins his STROLL to the convenience store and cash register.
After a wait that seemed like forever, he finally returned to his car (that I was beginning to think he abandoned) with a 64 ounce fountain soda and what looked like nachos. He spend a ridiculous amount of time placing his food and drink in the car then sidled over to the actual pump and finally started filling his tank.
As he pulled out I beeped my horn and stuck out my tongue. He pulled around the pump area and into a regular parking space in front of the store. He strolled back over to me and asked, truly mystified, why I stuck out my tongue. Clueless isn’t just a movie.
I explained that watching the car wash ritual and then waiting for someone in the brutal Georgia heat wasn’t as much fun as it sounded.
He was truly apologetic and offered to take me out as a peace offering. Since he was humble, cute and available…
Did you guys think I’d go out with a selfish dude like that? (those of you who are saying, “begger can’t be choosers”, need to quit!)
Of course I declined. For someone with no other offers on the horizon, I just may have blown a good thing, but insensitivity and lack of empathy aren’t really that high on my list of qualities in a man.
I was pleasantly surprised that the braids were a mere $25 this week and that my son was actually ready to leave for home by the time I arrived. Since it was “defer to him, shut up and just be nice” weekend (Father’s Day) I dropped Jack off with his dad and went on to explore bigger and better things.
(Adrian left the house early that morning to help a co-worker with his fledging landscaping business. This guy worked every Saturday for a couple of hours and needed a
little extra help
and offered Adrian $60 or $70 to go with him. He neglected to share some pretty pertinent information with Adrian. He was doing a new Senior’s complex and anticipated the work to last the whole day. $60 to work in the sweltering heat for a whole day isn’t cool.)
I had an afternoon of unlimited opportunities ahead of me so I went home and watched more crap on TV.
I sent Adrian encouraging texts during commercials like “don’t be a doo-doo head” and “I forbid you to sweat” to help his torturous ordeal pass more quickly. (He calls me annoying for very legitimate reasons).
Adrian has a very light complexion, and was a brighter red than “Larry the Lobster” when he got home that night. Adrian was pissed and we spent most of the evening cursing the demon that spawned his coworker who paid Adrian a measly $70 for more than 12 hours of hard labor in the hot sun.
Following that special brand of excitement I went to bed and slept restlessly until my Tylenol PMs kicked in. I take the Tylenol so that my bad dreams last quite a bit longer than necessary.
Sunday was so eventful that the day passed by in a blur. Grocery shopping and hair washing were the main two fun activites of the day.
Last night as a special treat, A and I went to Blockbuster to return tapes and pick up a few. Of course none of the recent releases were available, so we picked the best of the worst (after Adrian checked EVERY SINGLE FUCKING TITLE in the store).
We watched the beginning of a truly awful film and decided to just quit and go to bed.
How was your weekend?