Wednesday, April 07, 2010

Riding in Cars with Boys

I just bit into an apple and the lower retainer that had been affixed to the back of my bottom teeth since I was twelve broke off. It was supposed to be removed in tenth grade but I stopped returning my orthodontist's calls the previous summer. Consummate professional, but awful lover. Also, I'm pretty sure I just heard my boss say, "That's retarded!" Ugh, so rude.

So the flight attendants...

On Thursday night, I agreed to go out with this guy that I had been sporadically talking with since January. The reason I finally took him up on his invitation? Because he'd offered to drive me and my suitcases from my apartment to the house sitting abode. I am a whore for non-public transportation. After dropping his friend off at a bar, it became apparent that this was not going my way when he suggested Tim Horton's as our destination. For all y'all 'Mericans, this is like taking someone you're trying to impress to a Dunkin' Donuts. This may be more than adequate for some people, but not this americano misto-sippin' G-star. He also chose to by-pass the location a mere block from us in favour of one 10 minutes away just so that he could use his friend's GPS. I'm still on backstory and already the Audible Sigh tag has taken the stage. Granted, he did treat me to my $1.50 cup o' joe (and I mean that; I accept any and all acts of chivalry), but the conversation was about as laborious as that Precious girl's saunter down the red carpet at the Oscars. Anyway, nothing much happened that evening, though he did drop by a couple nights later to hot tub and molest me. It's okay, y'all; I was wearing a really short skirt, so clearly asking for it.

Anyhow, this takes us to Monday. In the afternoon, some random starts talking to me on the msn. Turns out that this is the fellow we dropped off at the bar a few days prior and thought I was cute. I feel that 'cute' in this scenario is code for 'will stimulate the unfortunate looking if bored'. It became clear that the fact that I'd big spooned his friend two nights prior was not a deterant. Neither was loyalty, evidently. Anyway, it soon became evident that this man was reta-... really dumb. To illuminate, I offer this illustrated breakdown of his cranial output:

He kept talking about the two of them picking me and taking me for a drive (No, this is not leading to a three-way public indecency ticket). I received an "Okay, we're leaving now!" pretty much every hour on the hour for the entire afternoon. At 6 o'clock, I looked out the window and there they were, smoking cigarettes and sporting looks right out of an American Eagle markdown bin. For a moment I considered pretending not to be there, that they had the wrong address or that I was out or simply at Hogwarts, but I manned up, petted the kitty and walked outside. Our destination on this balmy Easter Monday eve? Bed shopping at The Brick.

Hear that sound? It's all 14 of my followers swooning in unison. I told them that there were some really great furniture places *cough* a few blocks away, not to mention a Leon's, but evidently the latter was too expensive and the former were not trustworthy as they are not chains (tragic foreshadowing). So we drive north for about 16 hours and the entire time, the newer flight attendant is playing DJ with his iPod. The only problem is that he is only interested in the three aforementioned divas and despite having upwards of 12 (not kidding) remixes of some tracks, cannot seem to find anything he likes. In the 35 minutes it took to get to the store, I'm pretty sure I heard three songs in completion. It was like

"Do you belie-eeve i-"
"If I could tur-"
"Do you be-"
"Music! Makes the pe-"
"Life is mys-"
"Life is a mystery, ever-"
"Life is a-"
"Cause I'm your laaaaaaaaady-"
"This is a SONG FOR THE L-"
"Life is-"

And so on. Hell, I know thee well. Eventually we reached the hallowed Brick, where the new one was talked into buying a $1,600 king-size bed. At first he protested, saying, "Oh but it's too big for just me," and then pouting in my general direction. You know when a fat person needs pants that are big enough to fit around their waist but they have no butt so they keep having to pull their pants up? Okay, if that's your situation, just go with the king-size. It's alright. No judgey. And you know when a person is so bad with money that they need to put their new mattress on an 8 month payment plan that requires on the spot credit approval? Okay, if that's your situation, you've made some poor choices. And lots o' judgey. But know what garners the most judgey? When you ask me whether your Abercrombie & Fitch baseball cap looks better forward or backward and then flip it around 7 times to fully illustrate. Hey, rotund effeminate men of the world: no.

Things went from bad to worse after I gracefully bit it while exiting the store and the Effeminable Snowman, thinking that I'd merely hurt myself, wanted to make light of the situation and began imitating my walk as he minced down the sidewalk. Naturally, he had no idea that this is actually my regular contribution to bringing sexy back, but still it wasn't awesome. I got pretty quiet after that. Then we got back in the car and drove around looking for a - wait for it - SWISS MUTHAFUKKIN CHALET. For all y'all 'Mericans, this is like taking someone you're trying to impress t-... Wait. There is no equivalent to the devil's own chicken shack. I suggested we go to the Greektown area, because the food is good and the people are hot, but mostly because I wanted to be closer to home when I made my escape.

"It's really nice, kind of like mom & pop bistros and bars all along one strip."

"Well, do any places around there have endless breadsticks?" asked my former tubmate.

"Um, n-..."

"Cause we ain't goin' nowhere without endless breadsticks..."

"Life is a myst-"

"...And dipping sauce."

After another hour of driving around in circles, they decided to meet four other friends for Korean BBQ. I took one look at what was sitting in the front seats, multiplied this by 3 and though, "Nargh, I'm out." Fortunately, it was at this time that my mother called and right on Jewish mother cue says, "Honey, what's wrong? You don't sound so good." I told her that I was out with some lovely new friends but that I was getting one of my chronic migraine attacks. "But you don't have mig-.." I hung up on her.

"Fellas. This has been nifty and memorable, but I'm feeling headachey. Is it okay if I jump out at, oh, say this subway stop that we're just happening to pass as I tell you this?"

Then I dove through the passenger window and called my mom, who laughed the entire time. What a bitch.

Yesterday, the nonsensical softness posted a comment which referred to me as grumpy and a self-proclaimed douchebag. Later, Kama over at Queer In the Mirror pondered about my real life personality versus the one that authors this blog and where the line falls. I told him somewhere in between, as I am generally more caustic and lively in the presence of close friends, but am nowhere near as racist. Some may know London Preppy, a Greek-British blogger who for many years was essentially the leader amonst gay hedonistic oversharers. His life revolved around his body, clothing and various prescription medicated adventures. It read like fiction and after several years he announced that much of it was. In the same way that he his not a complete narcissist, I am not that much of a douchebag as I seem to think. Details and emotions are just often exaggerated for dramatic/humoUr sake. Anyway, the point is that I maaaaaaay have given one of the flight attendants this blog address, so if you're reading, um, hi and I had a great time and, yeah, call me. Also, congrats on learning to read.


Tocalabocina said...

Go ahead and feel superior but I defy you, DEFY you, to resist the Dunkin' after a breakfast of cold kimchi and 13 hours of watching happy asians devour Bavarian Cream donuts.

Defy you.

Kama said...

Small correction: The Queer is Behind the Mirror, not in it!

Pat Tillett said...

When you are famous, remember this my friend...I'm gonna be wanting a friggin' finders fee.

Seriously, that post would be a killer sitcom sketch. For exactly what show, I'm not exactly sure yet. You are seriously talented...

K - That was a damn funny comment. did you ever read, or see "fear and loathing in las vegas?" Your comment sounded like it belonged in that movie (one of the greatest ever, by the way)

soft nonsense said...

D, thank you so much for the translations for us 'Muricans down here. They truly made your post easily relatable.

Also, I hate when those in charge of the music have musical ADD. It's one thing to try to pick songs everyone will like, quite another to barrel through one's playlist as if you were having a seizure on the "skip" button.

Also also, Fear and Loathing is pretty much the shiz.

Anonymous said...

Fucking amazing!!!
(as always)
(i wouldn't expect any less)

Highlights included:
Anything that had to do with being judgey, as well as anything to do with Swiss Chalet.

Thanks for bringing out the laughter in mah life.

Anonymous said...

You have to express more your opinion to attract more readers, because just a video or plain text without any personal approach is not that valuable. But it is just form my point of view