The thing about not having a car is that it takes about a million times longer to run errands. Just simple things like going to the bank and picking up my baby-allergy medicine can take up the better part of a day, so while I have Fridays off, it’s almost always an errand day. I also had to make a return to Ulta–apparently they thought I wouldn’t notice if they subbed colors like hot pink and bronze in place of the electric blue and pure gold I ordered. Thanks for the extra hassle, guys.
Anyway, after a long day of running errands, I found myself in the area of Kent Station, and figured I’d stop into Shindig for a couple of drinks. Two absinthes later, and I was plowed, and my brain fuzzily tried to figure out why I was so drunk–I’d been giving my liver a proper workout the last few weeks, surely I’d built up a bit of a tolera——ooooooh yes, I hadn’t eaten yet that day. At all.
I walked to the Jack in the Crack in an attempt to remedy that problem, and was appalled to discover they didn’t have indoor seating. I wasn’t about to eat a burger out on the street, perhaps laying on the ground. I’m not David Hasselhoff!
I had a gift certificate in my bag for Mama Stortini’s, but I figured eating at a nicer restaurant while drunk was not a way to get maximum enjoyment out of the food, which is how I ended up on the bus, drunk, waiting to go home and make something to eat.
A young man, whom I figured for about nineteen based on the way he was wearing poorly-applied guyliner, sat down next to me and introduced himself. Fifteen minutes later, I was getting off the bus with this person to have dinner.
…I really probably need someone to whisper ‘Whoa! No! Bad idea!’ in my ear at all times. ALL TIMES. Would you like to know why?
Because at dinner, this not-nineteen-but-actually-twenty-five-year-old told me that he suffers from deep depression coupled with severe psychosis. He told me that God told him to write a novel of poetry, that he and God have these conversations quite often, and also that he was hoping I would go home with him so that perhaps he wouldn’t have to pay for the 80 dollar cab fare of the girl he had met on fling.com to come spend the night with him. No chance. I might have been stupid. I might have still been drunk. I might have been stupid drunk. I was neither that stupid nor that drunk.
So here I was, eating tortilla soup that tasted like fear, waiting for him to leap across the table and stab me because I wasn’t going home with him because God told him so. I was thankful that the waitress came to check on our table approximately every three minutes. I made my dashing (boring) escape by pulling out my phone, exclaiming ‘Oh goodness me oh my, the last bus home will be along shortly’ and ran, RAN across the street. “What are you doing tomorrow?” he called after me.
“Sooooooooooooo busy, sorry!” as I hopped on the bus and away from danger. Mostly. The guy seated in front of me kept talking about killing white people. After he got off the bus, I moved to be seated nearer the driver for the illusion of safety. Some other drunk chick was on the bus talking about how her boyfriend didn’t trust her, I one-upped her with psychosis boy, and then a kid who was trying to pass as Lil Wayne sat between us, put his arms around our shoulders and said “Ladies, tell me all about it.”
I’m thinking of walking everywhere from now on.
your posts are amusing me to no end!
Someday, I’m going to be murdered, and these posts will point to a pattern of bad decision-making leading up to the moment of being strangled with piano wire in an alley.
Where’s the nearest stable? Cuz if we can’t get you a car soon, we’ll have to look into buying you a horse for transportation. (Sorry, Anne.)
I had been hoping for a non-shitty bonus to help me get into a vehicle, but since it’s a toilet-paper amount, I’m thinking about tapping into my 401k for a loan to get into something.
Soooooooooo….you’re saying that dressing up with my guyliner on and telling girls that I’m a delusional psychotic isn’t a good way to pick up on chicks? Fine, Melzah: destroy ALL my plans…
Well clearly it KIND of worked. People keep telling me “Be open to the universe” and it ends up in stories like these. I’m thinking maybe “Just say no” is a better slogan for me.
south king county buses are God’s forsaken folks. be warned.
I’m pretty sure Tolkien visited South King Co, rode the buses here, and thus derived inspiration for Gollum.
Best phrase: “Some other drunk chick was on the bus…”
It’s important to differentiate!
I don’t know if I know you from any of her parties or anything, but you have a pic of Giles so I kinda love you.
No, sadly Laura is across the country (though originally from Tennessee so you two might still know one another…maybe!). You’d probably get along like gangbusters.
Alas, I’ve only partied with Mellzah in Atlanta. BUT WHAT A PARTY THAT WAS.
And you have a picture of Spike so I kinda love you, too.
I am anxious to have another ass judging contest; I have been strengthening my fingers with special exercises in case just such an event arises again.
This year I think is the 10th Annual Best Ass of Dark*ConFrontation contest. Also, as I’m unmarried, this year attempts to sway judicial opinion are welcome.
It’s so hard to be me.
So you’re going to be able to make it to D*C this year after all? That’s great news! 🙂
Looks that way. One of my D*C friends is using her frequent flyer miles to buy me a plane ticket. 😉
That’s a damn good friend!
Will he-who-shall-not-be-named be making an appearance this year?
No idea. I assume so, since his girl friend is presumably running her LARP. No word yet on if he’ll be working Dark*Con.
I would like to put $20 on you knocking him out in the first round.
You’d lose your money, sweetie, I’m a classy dame. He wasn’t strong enough to stay with me, being away from me is going to be punishment enough. My star is only going to get brighter and higher.
And hotter. 😉
You are a stronger lady than I, for certain.
Also, hotter!
The only way to settle both is by pudding wrestling.
It is SO on.
You and my friend both have powerful freak magnets embedded somewhere about your person. I can only assume you are both exuding an aura of “Bring it on, freaks! I am an excellent and hilarious writer and it’s all grist for the mill, baby!” Instead, I might suggest you cultivate an aura of “If you sit down and talk to me, I will kill you and make a stew of your organmeats and wear your spleen as a hat.” It works pretty well for me.
I have been told that my scowl isn’t particularly menacing. 🙁
We…
should tape up bork and Mellza back to back and throw them off a building using a rope to initiate enough spin to create a freak-a-field so that they levitate off of the ground.
Re: We…
I do not approve of this idea.
Re: We…
Think of the untold Freakagen’s we could generate? How as you achieve freakacality you would luminesce rays of attraction to all that is chaos towards you. You could master fate with such a means.
Re: We…
You do realize that this will create a spontaneous mosh pit with crowd surfing, right?
Re: We…
YES! Like the famous Buttered Cat Array! And then we could get a DOE grant and live a life of luxury.
Kind of sucks for Bork and Mellzah though.
I will admit, this is on compelling reason why I have a car. The whole family of teenagers who need rides all the time, working on the Eastside, living on the west (when it takes 30 mins to drive 1.5hrs to bus), etc etc.
But yea, I applaud your bravery/courage/earth friendly attitude.
🙂
Oh, it’s not even about being earth friendly, I actually have somewhat of a scorched-earth policy. My car died in spectacular fashion in November and I have been too poor to replace it. Every time I get money to rub together, some other expense comes up that sucks me dry again.
Sounds like you had a date with my boyfriend from high school. Not surprised to hear he’s taken up eyeliner.
I have enough bad bus experiences that even with the free Microsoft bus pass, I drove almost every day. The freaks aren’t worth the saved money.
We are clearly the luckiest ladies of all time, to both be graced with his and god’s presence.
THIS
dude you totally could have had some freaky sex man!!
FREAKY SEX! with a fear of disease and maybe your head in the freezer after.
That’s the problem, people keep saying freaky sex is the very best sex but there has to be SOME trust. I think. For me.
all you needed was the milwaukee guy who sits in the back of the bus and fake coughs loudly and mutters about the other passengers sort of under his breath to be the chorus to this amazing, amazing play.
In the broadway version, though, I want it to be three crazy guys in sequined dresses singing “Why, why, why”.
Come on, you’re still alive AND you get to tell us all this amusing tale. I encourage you to keep having dinners with weirdos you meet randomly. Just stay in crowded public areas.
One day I’m going to end up with my head on a wall and you’ll be sorry.
Or laughing.
I am so sorry:
1. That you have to endure the bus.
2. That, in reading this post, I’m laughing at your expense.
3. “Lists should have three items”
*I* have to laugh at my own expense when stuff like this happens, I can’t begrudge it to anyone else!
I am so glad I friended you – your posts make me laugh every single time!
Walking might not be a bad idea though O_o One of my brother’s friends once told him that God wanted him to kill people with a shovel. Ever since then, I treat conversations with God as suspect.
I FINALLY got a car so I won’t be taking the bus often from now on. It is something that I am grateful for every single day.
rereading this, I am still so into the guy who put his arms around you guys and was all “ladies, tell me about it.” In my head he is actually super-sympathetic and feminist and, like, therapist-like, and doesn’t even know he might come off as sleazy!
Did I mention I had a few beers tonight? That knowledge might help explain this.
It was all in the tone of voice, I could see how it could be misread. Try reading it like “heeeeeey ladieesssss, tell (big daddy) aaaaalllll about it.”