Bon Week-end
The Cubs swept the Cards. It was hugely intense. I had some nachos at my seat and a cig in the Friendly Confines Cafe, each game but in a different order. Took it easy during the games. Then we hit the bars.
Saturday night, during the cab ride home with my sister and her boyfriend Ron, I launched a stream of tasteless insults at our driver, because I felt antagonized by his strange looks of resoundingly shady implications, something like, "You're drunk; I'm taking the long route home." As predicted, after one mile's ride, we ran into a brutal two-mile stretch of traffic, exactly at the spot I'd been screaming we ought to avoid. If the dick had not written me off for being too plastered to know basic directions, we would have had a much, much cheaper fare. This was a crucial point seeing as we had very little money left between us--just enough for the short route home.
My sister was appalled by my antics; Ron kept repeating, "I totally agree with Pat; this guy is ridiculous." After I ran out of insults (yes, it is possible), I laughed with intoxicated and self-satisfied glee brought about by Ron's opinion that I was both blasted AND correct. It was quite a big moment, at least the parts that I remember. As a matter of fact, there were parts of the ride that will not be listed here because I'd rather forget them, so we'll leave it at that.
As we split from the cab, I put $10 dollars on the back seat and told the guy to screw off, because that's what it would have been if we'd gone my way. Later, my sister asked me if I had engaged in an altercation with the driver after leaving the car, because I walked in the opposite direction of my house, whereas they sprinted right into Ron's building. The sad reality is, it took me a block and a half of walking to remember which way was home. I'm not sure what happened to the cabbie, and I could care less.
I jabbered with the doorman for a little when I got home. He pretended to know where I was coming from, but I know he clearly didn't and I don't blame him at all. I was even a source of confusion for myself by that point, especially after all that screaming. Earlier in the night, I received a call from the same doorman, informing me that Ellen had managed to sneak into the building and was asleep in my hallway. They let her into my place at about 10, and she was curled up safe and sound when I got in at 1. Good times, good times.
Someone asked me this weekend, "Why'd you take a break from blogging?"
Yeah--why did I?
Saturday night, during the cab ride home with my sister and her boyfriend Ron, I launched a stream of tasteless insults at our driver, because I felt antagonized by his strange looks of resoundingly shady implications, something like, "You're drunk; I'm taking the long route home." As predicted, after one mile's ride, we ran into a brutal two-mile stretch of traffic, exactly at the spot I'd been screaming we ought to avoid. If the dick had not written me off for being too plastered to know basic directions, we would have had a much, much cheaper fare. This was a crucial point seeing as we had very little money left between us--just enough for the short route home.
My sister was appalled by my antics; Ron kept repeating, "I totally agree with Pat; this guy is ridiculous." After I ran out of insults (yes, it is possible), I laughed with intoxicated and self-satisfied glee brought about by Ron's opinion that I was both blasted AND correct. It was quite a big moment, at least the parts that I remember. As a matter of fact, there were parts of the ride that will not be listed here because I'd rather forget them, so we'll leave it at that.
As we split from the cab, I put $10 dollars on the back seat and told the guy to screw off, because that's what it would have been if we'd gone my way. Later, my sister asked me if I had engaged in an altercation with the driver after leaving the car, because I walked in the opposite direction of my house, whereas they sprinted right into Ron's building. The sad reality is, it took me a block and a half of walking to remember which way was home. I'm not sure what happened to the cabbie, and I could care less.
I jabbered with the doorman for a little when I got home. He pretended to know where I was coming from, but I know he clearly didn't and I don't blame him at all. I was even a source of confusion for myself by that point, especially after all that screaming. Earlier in the night, I received a call from the same doorman, informing me that Ellen had managed to sneak into the building and was asleep in my hallway. They let her into my place at about 10, and she was curled up safe and sound when I got in at 1. Good times, good times.
Someone asked me this weekend, "Why'd you take a break from blogging?"
Yeah--why did I?
posted by Pat at 11:18 PM
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