Friday, June 25, 2010


No, this is not the Friday segment of WTFWRD? This is me literally asking, what the frick?

It’s not even 9am and I have had the worst morning since I can remember. It’s just one of those days where my happiness is thwarted at every turn.

First, a dressing issue. Every morning, I lay in bed and think about what I’m going to wear that day, so I can get an extra 5 minutes of shuteye. But when it comes down to actually getting dressed, if that outfit doesn’t pan out, well, my morning is all screwed up. Such was the case this morning. But I found a quick resolution. Long dress, flip flops (I know!) and my black, flowy cover up.

So that crisis was averted.

Then I sat at the Mercer light for, what felt like, FOREVER. I hate that light. I hate South Lake Union. I hate the SLUT. I hate the new traffic lights. I hate the beggars on the corner who try to give me puppy dog eyes so I’ll give them money. I DON’T HAVE ANY MONEY! I should print out my bank statement and show it to them when they come up to the window. They’ll see my balance of $25.89 and then maybe give ME a dollar.

I finally get through the stupid light, and I make a beeline for Starbucks on Westlake (because Todd and I both woke up a bit late and we didn’t make coffee. And it’s Friday! Big ass latte Friday!) Only no one could seem to maneuver the freakin’ parking lot at Starbucks.

Which way should I turn? I could turn left, but is that a parking spot up there? Maybe I should try to go up there. So let me sit here and think for a minute while there’s a line of cars piled up behind me in the intersection. Do do do….


I finally get into a parking space, next to a blue car. A blue car that is not actually in a parking space, but rather, on the white striped lines that are next to a handicap space. And the car is empty but the motor is running. Who does that these days?

Obviously, an idiot. If I had any balls at all, I would have gotten in that car, very casually, and drove it around the block and parked it. Maybe teach them a lesson.

But alas, I have no balls, and I still hadn’t had coffee yet, so priorities.

For the first time, there is more than two people in line at this Starbucks. Fan-freakin-tastic.

At least a I get a chuckle talking with woman in front of me. She is a regular, so she didn’t even have to open her mouth when she got to the register. The barista had already rung her up before she could say hi.

Eventually, I get my big ass latte and head back to my car. The blue motor running car is gone now. I wish I’d seen who was driving it.

I pull out of my parking space, and drive around and come to a stop sign.

Thus, another moment of complete confusion.

Cars coming from my right, pedestrians walking in front of me, a car stopped on my left, more cars coming straight. Traffic finally eases and I start forward.

Only to have a Barbie doll bitch in her $50,000 Audi attempt to turn left, right in front of me.

So, of course, I slam on my brakes and my purse goes flying into the passenger seat floorboard (as is required EVERY FREAKIN’ DAY I AM SO SICK OF DRIVING).

And Barbie has the nerve to throw her hands up, shake her blond-from-a-bottle Barbie doll head and mouth “WTF?”

My thoughts exactly, Barbie.

Why the frick didn’t you have your turn signal on, indicating to me that you would like to turn left, in front of me? Does that $50,000 car not have turn signals? Gee, that’s not good. You might want to go back to the dealership and ask about that. I think you were overcharged.

If you had put your turn signal on, I would have gladly waited for you to turn, and I might have even given you a slight wave because your car is very pretty and I would have been surprised that a nice, courteous person was driving it, rather than the stereotypical bitch who thinks she can do whatever the hell she wants, without any regard to the rest of the people in her small, little world, just because she has a sugar daddy who is probably twice her age and buys her all of the expensive crap she whines for, and she has no other responsibility in life except to decide which caviar she and her girlfriends want to have with their brunch on Sunday.

Where was I?

Oh. Yes. Use your freakin’ turn signal so my purse doesn’t end up in my floor board!

So I FINALLY get out of the Starbucks parking lot, only to get up to the next gawdforsaken light, and witness a truck in the lane to my right, turn LEFT, along with the actual left turning lane, which I am actually in.


Did you not see my question in the Seattle Times in 2006 (third question down)?

You cannot turn left from that lane! See the arrows on the road, jackass!?

And then comes the SLUT intersection, where I just put my car in park at the red light and wait because I swear it’s a 10 minute light. And then I drive down the street, only to get to another light and wait and wait and wait, and when the light finally turns green, the stupid car in front of me just sits there, like he’s waiting for a written invitation to proceed forward so of course, I have to lay on my horn, while still having a I-am-going-to-kill-someone-crazy smile on my face, just in case he looks in his rearview mirror because I don’t want to look mean. (Crazy is okay, just not mean).

And then I finally pull into my parking garage and thank the Zinfandel, my three favorite spots are open so I have my pick and the nice lady just ahead of me holds the door to the elevators because I am juggling my coffee, my Tupperware dish of lunch, my keys, my badge and a banana peel, and I’m tripping over my dress because it’s a smidge too long, and my flip flops are already annoying me but she’s nice and says “Happy Friday” and I accidently glare at her, but recover and say “Thank gawd” and she laughs which makes me smile, so things are looking up.


Anonymous said...

Only another 45 years, then you can relax . . .


Bob Pace said...

I would opt for the Beluga. It's great with a little lemon on crostini. Try that with a '54, or maybe a '66 Cristal, or perhaps a '56 Dom Perignon. Scrumptious, deary!