Sunday, April 17, 2011

Unicorns can suck it

Let's not even pretend to discuss how long it's been. Just suck it, okay? And here we go...

My eyes fly awake. Not literally. That would be disgusting (seriously, what's wrong with you?). It is 5am. My natural inclination in these situations is to curse whatever god I'm diggin' that week and try to go back to sleep.

"No," a voice inside tells me, "You are awake. Do not force it. Embrace the morn."

"But it's still dark out," I say.

"You shut your stupid mouth," the voice replies.

So I get out of bed. Not drowsy in the least, I head downstairs, throw out the day-old coffee I had planned on reheating and boiled water for a fresh batch. I sauteed some garlic and spinach, beat some eggs, crumbled some chevre and made an omelet. Such an indulgence on a morning with classes starting at 8:30. I took the omelet and steamy cup of coffee to my room, watched some Rachel Maddow on youtube and chilled my non-sleepy ass out.

This day was good and it had yet to really begin.

At around 6:30, I was still so totally blissed out on the dawn that I decided to be a sport and preorder a couple grab-n-go Starbucks tetrapacks for the morning class. As previously mentioned, my instructor (Big Fat Greek Mama) had lost her own Big Fat Greek Mama in October and on New Year's Day, Big Fat Greek Papa joined her. Greeks...what a bunch of fuckin' drama queens. In light of this and the multitude of assignments raining down upon us with every passing day, I decided that we needed a treat and that my hasn't-worked-in-6-months ass would be the one to buy it.

I left the house at about 7:15 in order to make my 8:00 pick-up at da' Bucks. As I rode the streetcar to the subway station, my mind was filled with unicorns and rainbows and all sorts of uncharacteristic optimism as represented by elements in a Precious Memories greeting card. I arrived at Starbucks ten minutes early (!) and patiently waited as the bariste (that's 'barista' plural, bitches. Italian-lawyered.) prepared enough coffee to require a pack mule. Fortunately, my natural gate is somewhat of a clop and so I am the perfect substitute.

I imagined what they must think of me. Clearly this was an up and coming professional that worked on upwards of the 25th floor of some office tower and was putting in his dues, picking up coffee for the morning meeting. So dapper in his coat and tasteful yet elegant scarf. So clean-shaven. So ballin'.

Messenger bag on back, one tetrapack in each hand, I cantered my way back down into the subway, smoothly navigating the turnstiles and finding a sweet-ass spot leaning against a pole. I enjoy being pole adjacent. The school being only two stops away, I got there in a jiffy (8:10!) and strode confidently out of the car, a stranger shoulder-bumping me upon the exit. I was unharmed (start breathing again, devoted reader) but noticed that one of the two side pouches on the left tetrapack had been near completely torn off in the kerfuffle. Man of calm and reason I, I simply switched its contents (spare cups, various sweetening agents) to the other side and made my way up the stairs, reaching the 10th step before the other side broke off, fell to the floor and sent two full venti cups of milk and cream crashing to the ground, forming a harormonious, roughly combined 7% stream of dairy cascading down the steps of St. George Station.

I would love to tell you that in this moment of faith-testing I kept my cool in did not proffer an F bomb so vociferous as to send unborn children on the platform into immediate prenatal therapy, but this was not so.

Rebuking the offers of aid from the bum who'd been sleeping on the stairs (it shows a real strength of character for a homeless person to wake up, feel his bum all creamy and to offer help to the bloke the creamed all over him), I noticed a classmate staring at me, shoved the remaining tetrapack in her arms and ran off with the other one in search of the nearest Starbucks. And by ran I mean jogged. And by jogged I mean walked ever so slightly quicker than I normally do. Omigawd, are you seriously gonna keep going with this? I'm in the middle of a story here! JEEZ. So rude.

As I walked ever so slightly quicker than I normally do, I fantasized about how I would lay into the barista just in case she should happen to give me some guff upon my arrival. I was gonna be all "Faulty products!" and "Customer satisfaction!" and "You can't handle the truth!" but then she was all sweet and gave me exactly what I wanted so bitch di'in needed 2 be cut 2day.

I got to class five minutes late which was perfect timing to be all, "Oh, me? Yes, I brought coffee. Oh no, I need no thanks. No, please, stop applauding."

I hate rainbows, unicorns can suck it, and the next time I am unceremoniously awakened at 5:30, I am becoming an atheist, I swear to G-... WELL, SOMETHING. I DUNNO. I HAVEN'T FIGURED IT ALL OUT YET. DO NOT TEST ME! DO NOT TEST MEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!


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