fruit fights and assholes.
More often than not Catherine knows the exact right thing to say. She commiserates, she justifies, she encourages and she rationalizes. This past Friday I was supposed to meet a friend’s brother to deliver a key. The guy was a complete idiot. Didn’t know the address, didn’t know how to use a computer to get a map to find the address once I gave it to him, and then didn’t know how to appreciate me waiting up for him until 1:30am, than falling asleep AFTER he’d told me he had backup plans and UNDERSTOOD if I went to bed early. He came in on the 401 and went NORTH on Yonge street. He didn’t have a map. He hadn’t looked into where to park his car. He had no brain. He was a huge douche.
Then he has the nerve to call up his brother and say he doesn’t want to meet me to give back the key because he was disappointed in Friday nights happenings and doesn’t TRUST me to meet him. WTF.
So Catherine partook in this ridiculous happening and fully appreciated my anger.
“Oh my lord, WHAT. THE. FUCK. That guy is so rude! I can't believe he would say that! He left you hanging until 12:30 at night and TOLD you to go to sleep! We HAND DELIVERED him a key, just after he got there! We drove across town just for him, at his beckon call. What, we didn't give him enough directions? We couldn't explain the best way to get to scarborough? Buy a fucking map, you douche bag. Doesn't TRUST you? How the fuck did you not follow through? What an asshole, that pisses me right off. You go out of your way to help people and they throw it in your fucking face.”
Aside from that the weekend was absolutely fantastic. The Bruny, free booze, fruit fights in the street, swing sets and sand, piggy back rides and lots of laughing. The Irish are my escape but will be the end of me.
Then he has the nerve to call up his brother and say he doesn’t want to meet me to give back the key because he was disappointed in Friday nights happenings and doesn’t TRUST me to meet him. WTF.
So Catherine partook in this ridiculous happening and fully appreciated my anger.
“Oh my lord, WHAT. THE. FUCK. That guy is so rude! I can't believe he would say that! He left you hanging until 12:30 at night and TOLD you to go to sleep! We HAND DELIVERED him a key, just after he got there! We drove across town just for him, at his beckon call. What, we didn't give him enough directions? We couldn't explain the best way to get to scarborough? Buy a fucking map, you douche bag. Doesn't TRUST you? How the fuck did you not follow through? What an asshole, that pisses me right off. You go out of your way to help people and they throw it in your fucking face.”
Aside from that the weekend was absolutely fantastic. The Bruny, free booze, fruit fights in the street, swing sets and sand, piggy back rides and lots of laughing. The Irish are my escape but will be the end of me.