Full Moon Tuesday
I am by nature a girl of science. However there are those few things I get flaky & superstitious about: I've been known to read my horoscope, I think weird things happen during the full moon & I have a pathological fear of Tuesdays. Call me crazy if you like, but I'm telling you if you pay attention you will find Tuesday to be a notoriously bad day of the week. At my last job I explained my Tuesday issues to several coworkers & guess what? Within a short period of time they too were Anti-Tuesday converts (My ability to convert non-believers is what gives me faith in the whole amendment thing).
All that being said yesterday was not only Tuesday, but there was a full moon. WHY WAS I NOT WARNED BEFORE LEAVING THE HOUSE?!?!
Thanks to my lack of income I tend not to go out much. Ok, I actually don't leave the house unless it's on fire or to get coffee in the morning. Notably I think the coffee shop may be my next place of employment.
Anyway, about 4pm my mom's old hippie boyfriend tells me they are going out for Mexican food & invites me along. I stupidly say 'Sounds great, I'd love to go'. The following things proceed to happen during the approximately 75 minutes I was absent from the safety of my home:
1) The Beer Nabbing Bum
I live in a suburb, but the more hick than pretentious kind. We have several quirks. One is that the population is pretty much 50/50 white people & Hispanics (this would be why you can get good Mexican in bumble fuck, WI). However, should any of us see a black person we all think 'Is he lost? Milwaukee is the other way'. We don't have a homicide rate because we might average a half a murder a year. Instead we get odd crime. Not quite as odd as the great pink flamingo stealing from the church lawn (That would be in BEG's hometown). Still Waukesha is not what one refers to as a 'rough neighborhood' by any means.
Another wonderfully Waukesha quirk is we have notoriously narrow driveways into places with enormous dips at the bottom. It's as if they designed the town around fucking up the bottom of your car. Texas has too many speed bumps, New Jersey has no left turns and Waukesha has it's funky driveways. Imagine my surprise when I got to merge these 2 things together. Yep, crime & bad city planning all in one.
The Hippie & I take the SUV over to the Mexican place (Casa del rio) to meet mom. Casa has one of the stupid Waukesha driveways that is exactly wide enough for your vehicle & has concrete buildings on both sides to ensure your captivity. As he turns in we are immediately confronted by a stonewash jean clad ass of some guy. By his inability to get up off the ground I initially assumed the man was hurt. At second glance however I see a bag. In the bag is part of a six pack of beer. Like any good Wisconsinite these aren't those wimpy 12 ounce cans, no this is like a six pack of forties. Had I been driving it would have been at this point that I threw the car in reverse & parked elsewhere. As a woman even the most inebriated man may pose a threat if agitated. So instead of waiting to be the star of 'When Drunks Attack' I'd simply have removed myself from the area.
Not the Hippie though. Nope, he waits patiently while the bum goes about his business. As I watched the man who was about 3 feet in front of our bumper I realized not only was he not injured, but instead his issue was apparently that one of his beers had escaped from the bag. While trying to stand up more of his beers tumbled out of the bag in an effort to save themselves from the fate of this man. Already so drunk he couldn't stand & rather oblivious to our presence the man proceeds to crawl on his hands & knees from the right of the driveway to directly in front of us and then over to his beer. Having rescued the precious Budweiser, we now have to wait for him to crawl back out of our path. Again this takes him some amount of time. Using the concrete building on the right he manages to stumble off into the sunset. Did I mention he was this hammered at 530pm on a Tuesday? Apparently he doesn't like them either.
After the 10 minute performance by the drunk we pull through to the back where the parking lot lives. I casually glance off to my right & see a door I had never noticed. It blended into the building except for it's 3 makeshift 2x4 steps. It also didn't appear to go anywhere. Apparently though the bum knew something I didn't, because there he was slumped on the stairs. Still clutching his beer he is reaching up to knock on the door. If you have never watched a grown man reach up to knock on the very bottom of a door I highly recommend it. Wildly amusing.
2) Memory Lane
Finally we park & duck safely through the back door into the restaurant. Except in some apparent effort to mess with me as we reach the hostess area to get seated it becomes apparent that something is not right. Oh, yeah - Since the last time I was there they had moved a wall!
I persevere onward to our table & order a magarita. My mom having parked on the street pops in through the front door. She joins us & announces there is a cop outside with some guy who needs a bath. I then explain to her that we are already old friends with the crazy drunk who is now chatting with our local authorities. Though I can't imagine it was a very productive conversation.
My mom has barely sat down when I hear 'Amanda!'. As usual my first thought is 'Are those the voices in my head?'. I turn around & directly behind me is my old best friend Julie. When I say old I mean I met this girl when I was like 10 or 11 yrs old. We both rode at the same barn that had no indoor plumbing. Nothing builds character at 10 faster than using a port-a-potty at 6am in January. One of my biggest fears as a child was actually that I'd freeze to the seat ala why you aren't suppose to lick poles when it's freezing out.
It later dawned on me that means I have known her for about 15 yrs which made me feel really old.
We had a very 13 year old girl type of falling out over another mutual friend Charlene. The two of them eventually moved to another barn without me & I was left out in the cold. Ironically, my spot in the clique was filled by my current best friend Adrianna (aka - BEG). It was literally like she was the applicant they chose to fill my spot in the group dynamic. I guess it sort of explains why her & I ended up really good friends. I took the 11-13 yr old shift and Adrianna took the 14 - 16 yr old shift. Then her & I ended up at the same barn. If you haven't noticed horses, more specifically American Saddlebreds, is a small group chalk full of politics, barn hopping, sexual escapades & an overall general sleaziness.
Fast forward to present day....Julie & I were exchanging the usual pleasantries when I realized she was ten times the loser I was. Plus, she is still really close to Charlene so I got the double whammy update. I couldn't help but do the happy 'payback is a bitch' dance in my head.
The lowdown on Julie's life...
Job? I may be unemployed, but at least when employed I have what passes for a career. She never finished college & has three jobs. She tells me she is still at the Land's End Outlet (where she has now been folding flannel shirts for the last 8 years), she works for her parents business (though I don't recall them having one) and she works at the local Acura dealership. Trying to not to say anything totally tactless I ask what she does over at Acura assuming she does like part time office work or something. Nope, she without hesitation says 'I clean the cars!'. It took all of my willpower not to blurt out 'I thought they only hired Mexicans to do that'.
Married? Somewhat shocked at her patheticness I move on to the marriage question. Not only is she not married, but she still lives at home too. Whoo hoo! I am not the only one! On top of that the guy with her was a large, imposing Mexican Mafioso looking Hispanic who didn't say a word to me. So, if he was more than a platonic friend I also get bonus points for landing way better guys.
And then there is Charlene. Charlene comes from money. I don't mean wealthy, I mean her dad's favorite hobby is collecting Ferraris rich. Though honestly a great family. I knew them well & they are actually fairly low key rich.
Charlene is working for her parents as well in the accounting department. Of course, Julie said in the accounting department, not actually an accountant. That was sort of a given though. Her older brother wanted nothing to do with the business, so it landed on her.
As for marriage? Charlene was always really pretty. Guys just sort of fell at her feet. She is the embodiment of petite, blonde & rich. Yeah, I wish I had it so rough. So that made Julie's answer all the better. With a downward look towards the floor she tells me Charlene was engaged but "that didn't work out". The body language alone screamed huge fucking disaster. I'd like to fancy it was something as tragic as left at the alter, but I don't actually know.
Don't get me wrong, these girls were a huge part of my life & I don't wish them any ill will. However, sometimes an ego stroking is just what a girl needs.
After dinner I climbed into mom's car and when I looked ahead I saw the moon in all it's full glory. Well, there you have it. The explanation for my very weird 75 minute Tuesday adventure was right in front of me. Next time I think about leaving the house on a Tuesday I will be sure to check the moon's cycle.
All that being said yesterday was not only Tuesday, but there was a full moon. WHY WAS I NOT WARNED BEFORE LEAVING THE HOUSE?!?!
Thanks to my lack of income I tend not to go out much. Ok, I actually don't leave the house unless it's on fire or to get coffee in the morning. Notably I think the coffee shop may be my next place of employment.
Anyway, about 4pm my mom's old hippie boyfriend tells me they are going out for Mexican food & invites me along. I stupidly say 'Sounds great, I'd love to go'. The following things proceed to happen during the approximately 75 minutes I was absent from the safety of my home:
1) The Beer Nabbing Bum
I live in a suburb, but the more hick than pretentious kind. We have several quirks. One is that the population is pretty much 50/50 white people & Hispanics (this would be why you can get good Mexican in bumble fuck, WI). However, should any of us see a black person we all think 'Is he lost? Milwaukee is the other way'. We don't have a homicide rate because we might average a half a murder a year. Instead we get odd crime. Not quite as odd as the great pink flamingo stealing from the church lawn (That would be in BEG's hometown). Still Waukesha is not what one refers to as a 'rough neighborhood' by any means.
Another wonderfully Waukesha quirk is we have notoriously narrow driveways into places with enormous dips at the bottom. It's as if they designed the town around fucking up the bottom of your car. Texas has too many speed bumps, New Jersey has no left turns and Waukesha has it's funky driveways. Imagine my surprise when I got to merge these 2 things together. Yep, crime & bad city planning all in one.
The Hippie & I take the SUV over to the Mexican place (Casa del rio) to meet mom. Casa has one of the stupid Waukesha driveways that is exactly wide enough for your vehicle & has concrete buildings on both sides to ensure your captivity. As he turns in we are immediately confronted by a stonewash jean clad ass of some guy. By his inability to get up off the ground I initially assumed the man was hurt. At second glance however I see a bag. In the bag is part of a six pack of beer. Like any good Wisconsinite these aren't those wimpy 12 ounce cans, no this is like a six pack of forties. Had I been driving it would have been at this point that I threw the car in reverse & parked elsewhere. As a woman even the most inebriated man may pose a threat if agitated. So instead of waiting to be the star of 'When Drunks Attack' I'd simply have removed myself from the area.
Not the Hippie though. Nope, he waits patiently while the bum goes about his business. As I watched the man who was about 3 feet in front of our bumper I realized not only was he not injured, but instead his issue was apparently that one of his beers had escaped from the bag. While trying to stand up more of his beers tumbled out of the bag in an effort to save themselves from the fate of this man. Already so drunk he couldn't stand & rather oblivious to our presence the man proceeds to crawl on his hands & knees from the right of the driveway to directly in front of us and then over to his beer. Having rescued the precious Budweiser, we now have to wait for him to crawl back out of our path. Again this takes him some amount of time. Using the concrete building on the right he manages to stumble off into the sunset. Did I mention he was this hammered at 530pm on a Tuesday? Apparently he doesn't like them either.
After the 10 minute performance by the drunk we pull through to the back where the parking lot lives. I casually glance off to my right & see a door I had never noticed. It blended into the building except for it's 3 makeshift 2x4 steps. It also didn't appear to go anywhere. Apparently though the bum knew something I didn't, because there he was slumped on the stairs. Still clutching his beer he is reaching up to knock on the door. If you have never watched a grown man reach up to knock on the very bottom of a door I highly recommend it. Wildly amusing.
2) Memory Lane
Finally we park & duck safely through the back door into the restaurant. Except in some apparent effort to mess with me as we reach the hostess area to get seated it becomes apparent that something is not right. Oh, yeah - Since the last time I was there they had moved a wall!
I persevere onward to our table & order a magarita. My mom having parked on the street pops in through the front door. She joins us & announces there is a cop outside with some guy who needs a bath. I then explain to her that we are already old friends with the crazy drunk who is now chatting with our local authorities. Though I can't imagine it was a very productive conversation.
My mom has barely sat down when I hear 'Amanda!'. As usual my first thought is 'Are those the voices in my head?'. I turn around & directly behind me is my old best friend Julie. When I say old I mean I met this girl when I was like 10 or 11 yrs old. We both rode at the same barn that had no indoor plumbing. Nothing builds character at 10 faster than using a port-a-potty at 6am in January. One of my biggest fears as a child was actually that I'd freeze to the seat ala why you aren't suppose to lick poles when it's freezing out.
It later dawned on me that means I have known her for about 15 yrs which made me feel really old.
We had a very 13 year old girl type of falling out over another mutual friend Charlene. The two of them eventually moved to another barn without me & I was left out in the cold. Ironically, my spot in the clique was filled by my current best friend Adrianna (aka - BEG). It was literally like she was the applicant they chose to fill my spot in the group dynamic. I guess it sort of explains why her & I ended up really good friends. I took the 11-13 yr old shift and Adrianna took the 14 - 16 yr old shift. Then her & I ended up at the same barn. If you haven't noticed horses, more specifically American Saddlebreds, is a small group chalk full of politics, barn hopping, sexual escapades & an overall general sleaziness.
Fast forward to present day....Julie & I were exchanging the usual pleasantries when I realized she was ten times the loser I was. Plus, she is still really close to Charlene so I got the double whammy update. I couldn't help but do the happy 'payback is a bitch' dance in my head.
The lowdown on Julie's life...
Job? I may be unemployed, but at least when employed I have what passes for a career. She never finished college & has three jobs. She tells me she is still at the Land's End Outlet (where she has now been folding flannel shirts for the last 8 years), she works for her parents business (though I don't recall them having one) and she works at the local Acura dealership. Trying to not to say anything totally tactless I ask what she does over at Acura assuming she does like part time office work or something. Nope, she without hesitation says 'I clean the cars!'. It took all of my willpower not to blurt out 'I thought they only hired Mexicans to do that'.
Married? Somewhat shocked at her patheticness I move on to the marriage question. Not only is she not married, but she still lives at home too. Whoo hoo! I am not the only one! On top of that the guy with her was a large, imposing Mexican Mafioso looking Hispanic who didn't say a word to me. So, if he was more than a platonic friend I also get bonus points for landing way better guys.
And then there is Charlene. Charlene comes from money. I don't mean wealthy, I mean her dad's favorite hobby is collecting Ferraris rich. Though honestly a great family. I knew them well & they are actually fairly low key rich.
Charlene is working for her parents as well in the accounting department. Of course, Julie said in the accounting department, not actually an accountant. That was sort of a given though. Her older brother wanted nothing to do with the business, so it landed on her.
As for marriage? Charlene was always really pretty. Guys just sort of fell at her feet. She is the embodiment of petite, blonde & rich. Yeah, I wish I had it so rough. So that made Julie's answer all the better. With a downward look towards the floor she tells me Charlene was engaged but "that didn't work out". The body language alone screamed huge fucking disaster. I'd like to fancy it was something as tragic as left at the alter, but I don't actually know.
Don't get me wrong, these girls were a huge part of my life & I don't wish them any ill will. However, sometimes an ego stroking is just what a girl needs.
After dinner I climbed into mom's car and when I looked ahead I saw the moon in all it's full glory. Well, there you have it. The explanation for my very weird 75 minute Tuesday adventure was right in front of me. Next time I think about leaving the house on a Tuesday I will be sure to check the moon's cycle.
posted by Knina at 1:33 AM
2 Comments:
I knew this was going to make the best damn blog post ever!!! Ahh is it sad that not only do I miss horses, showing and allt eh crazed lunatic debauchery that went along with it, but that I also miss real live Mexican food made by Mexicans who barely speak English? Conjito's serves their food on paper plates!! It's brilliant, and I am so hungry for a high quality enchilada...
I used to love tuesdays if only for Buffy &co.