lengthy story about everything unfortunate that happened to me last night/this morning
So.... LMAO I have a funny story for you now. You see, it wasn't all that funny last night, but I knew when I woke up today, it would be hilarious as hell. A series of unfortunate events, if you will, are usually only funny in retrospect.
I'll start from the beginning, but there is no humor until the end. Jessie and I, for those who don't know, went to see Good Charlotte and we believed A Simple Plan would be there, too. The trip there was pretty eventless, until the sky broke open and visibility was almost zero heading down I-75 at about 25mph due to the rain, but we only had 2 more miles to go.
We didn't know where to park, but finally we saw a spot and headed in the pouring rain up to the entrance, holding an umbrella. I realized I made a poor choice in pants, then, as capillary action of my dragging pants soaked me up to the knees by the time we reached the entrance. Then I saw a parking spot right in front and yelled, "FUCK!" Then the lady said, "No umbrellas, you'll have to go back to your car!" So we walked back to our car through the rain again, and then I decided to pull out and claim the good parking spot.
Our seats were fucking amazing. Good job to Jessie's cousin for getting us seats so close. Finally they started, and the first band came on. I'm like, "Err.. I don't think this is Simple Plan..?" Turned out Relient K replaced them, but that was ok, since they ended up being pretty good. I came to the realization that roadies must feel incredibly good about themselves, considering how much everyone cheers when they come out. Yeah, must be great to be a roadie. Then Good Charlotte came on, and their stage set was amazing. Cool backdrop, giant stone-looking dragons + gargoyles, cool like.. wrought iron gate/fences and lots of fog. They actually played a lot of songs I knew, not as much of their new stuff as I thought, and fuck you all who say otherwise, because I enjoyed their concert, I don't care what anyone else says about that. Jessie and I felt old, though, we were like the only ones there who didn't have our mommy bring us.
The concert ended at 10:30, and it took us until 11:30 to leave the parking lot. The fun begins! I had everything planned out, don't call me a bad navigator, I knew exactly where to go. My route was good! Jessie had been doing a good job helping me navigate all along, too. Of course, it's the same route as to the renaissance festival, just about 15 miles before Holly, and I've driven that a million times. So don't call me incompetent, and don't blame Jessie either! It really wasn't our fault!
We head happily down the road toward I-75 S. About to turn onto the ramp, and "Oh fuck, it's closed!" Blocked off with those oh-so-familiar orange construction barrels. No problem, there's a detour sign up ahead. Let's follow it!
We followed it, and it lead us to nowhere. Absolute nowhere. Jessie and I found ourselves on a twisty dirt road, with no other cars around us, entirely surrounded by fog and trees. It was impossible to see what was around the next curve, and I honestly started to get really scared. If Jessie wasn't with me, I probably would have been freaking out, but I stayed pretty calm, although I was white-knuckling the steering wheel and biting my lip the entire way. You have no idea how scary this road was. It looked like an axe murderer was going to leap out at any second, like picturesque horror movie material. I don't know how long we drove around like that. Finally, what I hoped the dirt road would do, it brought us back to DTE so we could start over, but we were on the back side of it. I saw one of the workers so I got out to ask him how to get back to 75. He said he wasn't from around here, so he didn't really have an answer, but said if I kept following this road I could get back to the road I knew I was supposed to be on. That never happened.
By luck alone, I found a sign buried in the underbrush that said I-75 was ahead. We drove for miles, with perhaps one of these signs every few miles for reassurance, down twisting dirt roads with no sign of civilization.
Jessie and I cheered when we finally found I-75. All I know is that we had been through our Good Charlotte CD almost 3 times when we got to 75. Things were going great for the duo of Stacy and Jessie.
Then we saw a flashing construction sign. "Square Lake exit closed." Guess-fucking-what. That was my exit. I called my dad to see what else I could do, but when I got to the exit... it was open, so I told him not to worry, I'd see him in a bit. So I took that exit. And then I realized that this exit was for two roads. Merge to the left, you're on Square Lake. Merge to the right, and you're on Opdyke. The orange construction barrels only gave us one choice, and it wasn't Square Lake. So we took Opdyke, instead, and thanks to Jessie, who saw the sign for Square Lake, we ended up where we were supposed to be...or so we thought
Now it was just a matter of finding Telegraph. Hmm, won't be too hard, eh? Famous last words. We drove for miles down Square Lake, West somehow turned onto East, once again without any sign of civilization. Then all of a sudden we weren't on Square Lake anymore, but 19 mile road. It was then that I gave up and decided to sound like a dumbass and call home again. My dad told me what to do, but I was getting panicked, and instead of turning left, like I was supposed to, when I got to the street I turned right. Then I realized what I did, but I doubted myself, and didn't know what to do anymore, but I turned around and went the direction I thought I was supposed to.
Everything was great, our turn was coming up and we'd be on Telegraph in no time! My dad called again and talked me through it, telling me the next turn I would have to make before Telegraph. I was calling out street names as I approached them, asking him which one to take.
"Dad, I'm coming up to Wattles St., I need to know, do I turn now? Dad I'm there, I need to know," I said, getting panicked. I was coming up on the intersection, there was no time, it was a green light but I hit my brakes a little, since there was no one behind me, to stall for time.
"No," he decided, "keep going straight." So I had to swerve out of the right turn only lane at the last second.
It was then that I saw flashing red and blue lights in my rearview mirror, and heard a siren behind me. My first impression was, "Oh, a car chase or something! Better move over!" But then I realized he was stopping, too. I felt sick and was about to cry, but I was determined not to cry in front of anyone, so I didn't. I was obviously upset, though, and Jessie tried to calm me down. What the fuck, I wasn't speeding, I was going under, actually, I didn't understand.
"Ma'am, have you been drinking?" he asked.
I was aghast. I began to talk very quickly. "What? No I've never drank in my life. I'm just lost and I'm trying to find my way home, my dad's on the phone telling me what to do, and I don't know where I am." I gave him my license and registration, and he took it back to his car. He came back and shined his flashlight all over through my car, inquiring about different things in my car, including the incredibly suspicious looking bag of Zap Zone tickets. This made me pretty nervous.
He let me go without a ticket or anything, because I didn't really do anything ticketable, just a last minute decision, but I didn't even cut anyone off doing that, he was in the other lane, and we were the only ones on the road.
Jessie and I finally got to the turn we were supposed to make, and from then on, it was only 12 miles to Telegraph. I would know exactly where to go once we got on Telegraph.
"Be Telegraph..now!" Jessie said as we approached an intersection. Then we saw the most beautiful green sign that said Telegraph Road ever, and we cheered and high-fived, and just as we did so, I saw the road was flooded! I hit it going pretty fast, and I couldn't see anything as the water splashed up around me.
And from then on it was smooth sailing for the Black Pearl, and everything was good, and Jessie and I concluded this was the most memorable road trip ever. Over three hours in the car on the way home, I was in a cold sweat, but we made it through!
AND IT WAS ALL CONSTRUCTION'S FAULT. I FUCKING HATE CONSTRUCTION.
And that was my night, people, what a fucking experience. If Jessie and I weren't such calm people, and we didn't have such good senses of humor, it would have made that night incredibly difficult.
I'll start from the beginning, but there is no humor until the end. Jessie and I, for those who don't know, went to see Good Charlotte and we believed A Simple Plan would be there, too. The trip there was pretty eventless, until the sky broke open and visibility was almost zero heading down I-75 at about 25mph due to the rain, but we only had 2 more miles to go.
We didn't know where to park, but finally we saw a spot and headed in the pouring rain up to the entrance, holding an umbrella. I realized I made a poor choice in pants, then, as capillary action of my dragging pants soaked me up to the knees by the time we reached the entrance. Then I saw a parking spot right in front and yelled, "FUCK!" Then the lady said, "No umbrellas, you'll have to go back to your car!" So we walked back to our car through the rain again, and then I decided to pull out and claim the good parking spot.
Our seats were fucking amazing. Good job to Jessie's cousin for getting us seats so close. Finally they started, and the first band came on. I'm like, "Err.. I don't think this is Simple Plan..?" Turned out Relient K replaced them, but that was ok, since they ended up being pretty good. I came to the realization that roadies must feel incredibly good about themselves, considering how much everyone cheers when they come out. Yeah, must be great to be a roadie. Then Good Charlotte came on, and their stage set was amazing. Cool backdrop, giant stone-looking dragons + gargoyles, cool like.. wrought iron gate/fences and lots of fog. They actually played a lot of songs I knew, not as much of their new stuff as I thought, and fuck you all who say otherwise, because I enjoyed their concert, I don't care what anyone else says about that. Jessie and I felt old, though, we were like the only ones there who didn't have our mommy bring us.
The concert ended at 10:30, and it took us until 11:30 to leave the parking lot. The fun begins! I had everything planned out, don't call me a bad navigator, I knew exactly where to go. My route was good! Jessie had been doing a good job helping me navigate all along, too. Of course, it's the same route as to the renaissance festival, just about 15 miles before Holly, and I've driven that a million times. So don't call me incompetent, and don't blame Jessie either! It really wasn't our fault!
We head happily down the road toward I-75 S. About to turn onto the ramp, and "Oh fuck, it's closed!" Blocked off with those oh-so-familiar orange construction barrels. No problem, there's a detour sign up ahead. Let's follow it!
We followed it, and it lead us to nowhere. Absolute nowhere. Jessie and I found ourselves on a twisty dirt road, with no other cars around us, entirely surrounded by fog and trees. It was impossible to see what was around the next curve, and I honestly started to get really scared. If Jessie wasn't with me, I probably would have been freaking out, but I stayed pretty calm, although I was white-knuckling the steering wheel and biting my lip the entire way. You have no idea how scary this road was. It looked like an axe murderer was going to leap out at any second, like picturesque horror movie material. I don't know how long we drove around like that. Finally, what I hoped the dirt road would do, it brought us back to DTE so we could start over, but we were on the back side of it. I saw one of the workers so I got out to ask him how to get back to 75. He said he wasn't from around here, so he didn't really have an answer, but said if I kept following this road I could get back to the road I knew I was supposed to be on. That never happened.
By luck alone, I found a sign buried in the underbrush that said I-75 was ahead. We drove for miles, with perhaps one of these signs every few miles for reassurance, down twisting dirt roads with no sign of civilization.
Jessie and I cheered when we finally found I-75. All I know is that we had been through our Good Charlotte CD almost 3 times when we got to 75. Things were going great for the duo of Stacy and Jessie.
Then we saw a flashing construction sign. "Square Lake exit closed." Guess-fucking-what. That was my exit. I called my dad to see what else I could do, but when I got to the exit... it was open, so I told him not to worry, I'd see him in a bit. So I took that exit. And then I realized that this exit was for two roads. Merge to the left, you're on Square Lake. Merge to the right, and you're on Opdyke. The orange construction barrels only gave us one choice, and it wasn't Square Lake. So we took Opdyke, instead, and thanks to Jessie, who saw the sign for Square Lake, we ended up where we were supposed to be...or so we thought
Now it was just a matter of finding Telegraph. Hmm, won't be too hard, eh? Famous last words. We drove for miles down Square Lake, West somehow turned onto East, once again without any sign of civilization. Then all of a sudden we weren't on Square Lake anymore, but 19 mile road. It was then that I gave up and decided to sound like a dumbass and call home again. My dad told me what to do, but I was getting panicked, and instead of turning left, like I was supposed to, when I got to the street I turned right. Then I realized what I did, but I doubted myself, and didn't know what to do anymore, but I turned around and went the direction I thought I was supposed to.
Everything was great, our turn was coming up and we'd be on Telegraph in no time! My dad called again and talked me through it, telling me the next turn I would have to make before Telegraph. I was calling out street names as I approached them, asking him which one to take.
"Dad, I'm coming up to Wattles St., I need to know, do I turn now? Dad I'm there, I need to know," I said, getting panicked. I was coming up on the intersection, there was no time, it was a green light but I hit my brakes a little, since there was no one behind me, to stall for time.
"No," he decided, "keep going straight." So I had to swerve out of the right turn only lane at the last second.
It was then that I saw flashing red and blue lights in my rearview mirror, and heard a siren behind me. My first impression was, "Oh, a car chase or something! Better move over!" But then I realized he was stopping, too. I felt sick and was about to cry, but I was determined not to cry in front of anyone, so I didn't. I was obviously upset, though, and Jessie tried to calm me down. What the fuck, I wasn't speeding, I was going under, actually, I didn't understand.
"Ma'am, have you been drinking?" he asked.
I was aghast. I began to talk very quickly. "What? No I've never drank in my life. I'm just lost and I'm trying to find my way home, my dad's on the phone telling me what to do, and I don't know where I am." I gave him my license and registration, and he took it back to his car. He came back and shined his flashlight all over through my car, inquiring about different things in my car, including the incredibly suspicious looking bag of Zap Zone tickets. This made me pretty nervous.
He let me go without a ticket or anything, because I didn't really do anything ticketable, just a last minute decision, but I didn't even cut anyone off doing that, he was in the other lane, and we were the only ones on the road.
Jessie and I finally got to the turn we were supposed to make, and from then on, it was only 12 miles to Telegraph. I would know exactly where to go once we got on Telegraph.
"Be Telegraph..now!" Jessie said as we approached an intersection. Then we saw the most beautiful green sign that said Telegraph Road ever, and we cheered and high-fived, and just as we did so, I saw the road was flooded! I hit it going pretty fast, and I couldn't see anything as the water splashed up around me.
And from then on it was smooth sailing for the Black Pearl, and everything was good, and Jessie and I concluded this was the most memorable road trip ever. Over three hours in the car on the way home, I was in a cold sweat, but we made it through!
AND IT WAS ALL CONSTRUCTION'S FAULT. I FUCKING HATE CONSTRUCTION.
And that was my night, people, what a fucking experience. If Jessie and I weren't such calm people, and we didn't have such good senses of humor, it would have made that night incredibly difficult.