There, you've been warned. Now, if I (or God) somehow fuck this up, it is not my fault. You went into this with your eyes WIDE open.
Anyway, Saturday my best friend in the whole world got married. And decided she wanted, no needed, me to be a part of her special day. I had a great intentions, I swear. But life, God, her friends....they had other ideas. But let's fast forward to the wedding weekend, itself.
The wedding day dawned nice and sunny. I went for a run (see, less shambles), showered and headed to the store to pick up a gift for Barbie's wedding. Then I headed to the Aveda Institute.
Where I lost 5 fucking hours of my life. No big... I didn't want to enjoy any part of my Saturday. Especially, the part where the DAWGS were playing a fucking football game.
Afterward, I swung by my apt to pick up my overnight bag (shack bag if you will. Never know where you'll end up on wedding night) and my bridesmaid dress and then
began the 30 minute trek to the bride's house. The rest of the bridesmaid's were there getting ready already since they rode with the bride from the Aveda Institute.
So I'm cruising down Buford Highway (also known as illegal road. If you don't get this then you're denser than me). And I'm thinking to myself how much weddings suck. And how much it sucks to be sober at 4 pm on game day. And suddenly... like a mirage in the desert (oasis maybe) there it is...
What's a girl to do?
Well, I have no idea what the answer to that is, but this bitch swung a right into the parking lot and beat a hasty path to the nearest pint of Jack Daniels. Side note: that is a serious fucking website. I may never go to another liquor store. EVER. So after paying $13 bucks for a pint of JD I haul ass back out to my car, sling my bag into my car and shove the key into the ignition. Turn it.
Nothing. No lights. No noise. NOT A GODDAMN THING.
Pop the hood (what the fuck is that going to do? I don't know but it was helping to keep me from panicking).
A Polish couple walking by stops and takes a look. Tells me to go inside and get a coke. Corrosion or some shit?
This leads to me having a fucking meltdown in Tower liquors over fucking chips and coke. Apparently, me crying will not get me JUST a can of coke unless I have 78 cents. Fuck you check out lady and your idiotic inability to tell me what I could buy to take me up to $3.50 which is your minimum. Here's a thought you dumbfuck: LIQUOR. In a bottle. Someone should fire you.
Anyway the Polish guy pours the coke on the battery. I try to start the car. Still NOTHING. Well, shit. Now I am crying (wearing my shades to semi-hide this fact of course). Now a hispanic guy pulls his hoss of a truck next to me and tries to jump my car.
STILL NOTHING.
And the manager tries his hand at helping me. Only to find a very pissed off, crying bridesmaid who does not want to run through coke and jumping all over again. Finally, he realizes he can walk over to Firestone and "want I should arrange a battery for you?" Why, yes, yes I would like this. Why did no one fucking mention the Firestone 45 minutes ago?!?!?!
The Firestone guy comes over, charges my battery and has me pull my car into Firestone. "Ten minutes, tops," he tells me.
Then, suddenly, he sighs. Loudly.
HE DOESN'T HAVE MY DAMN BATTERY. He sends me two miles down the road to Autozone. Now, on the way there I start to wonder, what will I do while I go in and get my battery? Leave the car running? Because every time the car stops, it dies. And it sputters on left turns so now I'm nervous. I start scrolling through my phone.
Mom is at the lake. Step Dad is in rehab. Dad is in New Jersey. Brother is at work. Oh look...I'm single. My guy friends are drunk watching the UGA game. The Bride didn't bother to tell her father (a 40 year employee of fucking GM) that my car was dead. And then a light goes on over my head.
"Hi, Matt? What are you doing?"
Did I mention I'm a user? Matt is a friend of mine from high school. He is married. He went to Tech (I know, it bothers me too). He happens to know a couple of things about cars. He is not busy. So I cry my story out to him.
Matt says he will meet me at home after the wedding and get me a new battery. Just get to the wedding. So I pull a UTurn in front of a cop too lazy to care and head to the venue. Two miles from the damn venue my car lights up to tell me I have no fucking gas. So I call Matt and tell him the latest....
My life truly is in shambles.
How did this turn out?
Well, I pulled up to the venue and started getting my shit out. The Best Man and Groom pull up and we pass around my bottle of JD (Did I mention I'm late?). I head into the venue, take 5 minutes to slap makeup on, shove pins in my shit show of a hair style and another 15 to get into the damn dress. Which wouldn't zip.
Matt came to the venue and during the wedding fixed my car and put gas into it. All's well that ends well.
I really am a user.
1 comment:
oh. sweet. baby. jesus. i had no idea! thank god for matt. he is a good friend regardless of whether or not he was used or not. just glad you made it to the wedding in time!
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