bullshit bad luck
Is there something in my stars that says I'd be having bad luck concerning anything having to do with cars this weekend?????! I woke up on Thursday with this overwhelming premonition that I was going to die in a car wreck this weekend, that I should stay home and not go to Louisville. But that wasnt really an option since I thoroughly enjoy getting paid to do nothing, so I stared death in his massive cyclops-with-conjunctivitis eye and off I shot to Louisville's unemployment office, despite the bad feeling and my noticeably bare front tires.
As soon as I get on the interstate, the badness begins. I almost get killed THREE times by drivers jerking over from their lane because they arent paying fucking attention to their blind spot, which I just so happen to be in for approximately 2 seconds. So I am on the defense, trying to make it to Louisville alive because a dead girl cant draw unemployment or be an archaeologist someday. But the threat of death doesnt stop me from speeding. Oh no ma'am. I'm pushin tired old Betty the Buick to 90 all the way. In fact, I am thinking, The faster I get off the road, the faster I will be to not dying.
But that's not what Officer Unfriendly thought. 88 in a 70. Actually it was a 55 construction zone but he let me off. 'Any reason you were speeding?' 'No.' 'I need your liscense please.' *disappears for a few minutes* 'Ok I have this for you. You need to call this number and get the information blah blah yada yada I'm a state trooper who is totally uninterested in this part of my job.' 'OK' 'Slow down please.' 'OK' And thankfully my new friend and I part.
So I get to Louisville with this ticket, and I'm thinking, Ok so this is what my instinct was telling me this morning...but boy was I wrong. It had only just begun.
So Friday night Les and I, the free spirits that we are, decide to go to my cousin Amy's 20th birthday party in Murfreesboro, TN, which is cool, you know? 3 hrs away, not too bad. Except it starts raining like a motherfucker and we hydroplane like 5 times. By now I am starting to hate driving this weekend. But the kicker is when we get to Amy's apartment complex, she forgets to tell us to park in a visitor space, and I end up with a goddamn boot on my car. after I had been drinking. which cost LESLIE $95 to remove because I didnt have any fucking money because I'm a genius who travels without it (I wrote her a check to deposit on Fri). They remove the boot and Boot Guy says, 'You need new tires.' 'Yes I know this.' We end up sleeping underneath a table.
After that debacle, the next day when we decide to leave, one of my tires, the rear driver's side, ONE OF MY GOOD ONES, has literally 2 lbs of air in it. Motherfucker. But it's a slow leak, thank you Baby Jesus.
So we get back to Louisville. I almost decide to drive back to Birmingham in the middle of the night because that's how I roll and the traffic is nonexistant, but it was icy out and my Aunt hates it when I drive the interstate after dark, so I instead wake up and drive in the morning. And it's a damn good thing this one time I listened to some senseless worrying, because today at 10:30 a.m. my car died outside Nashville. If that had happened at 2:30 in the morning, well I would have been completely and utterly F-U-C-K-E-D and frozen. Thank christ for Dad, Pop, and Uncle Tony, because they came and towed my ass back to the Ham. And the Ham is where I'm staying for a while.
I said Goddamn. God is such a bitch sometimes.