Your Girlfriend is Ugly

The Tragedy of the Cars: A Three Part Blog mini-series

Oh Wednesday night....Wednesday night was fun. Quite the Hump Day night indeed.

The following blog is divided into three parts:

Part 1: Hit and Run...NO FUN!
Part 2: But I'm a parallel parking ninja!
Part 3: Lemme push up ya bumpa!

I give you Part 1: Hit and Run...NO FUN!

I was driving home from Quincy when my berry started to burbble. It was LK.

"Hi Hooker!"

"SOME FUCKING ASSHOLE JUST HIT ME."

"OMG! Are you ok????"

"What the fuck?!"

"Where are you?"

"Fucking FUCK!"

"Want me to come there and get you?"

"Fuck."

"Um...What happened?"

"I'm in my spot riiiight, and I'm getting ready to pull out when this guy just side swipes my car."

"Whaaaaaaaaaaat?"

"He was about A HUNDRED MILLION YEARS OLD!!!"

"Did you get his insurance info?"

"No! He kept going. I honked my horn and got out of my car but he just kept driving. Just kept on driving. Didn't even realize he hit me and he had a huge scratch on the side of his car."

"Holy shit!" (It has to be said that I am a firm believer that once you turn a certain age, you should have to take your driving test over again. But that's neither here nor there. My name isn't on the State House door.)

"This suuuuuuuuucks! Effing cars!!!"

"So what's the damage."

"UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUM my front bumper is like falling off. I'm afraid to drive it."

"Do you want me to come get you?"

"Merrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!! Ugh! I'll call you back."

I proceeded home.I arrived at the apartment and was about to tackle the dishes when LK called again.

"I'm parked on K street. Can you come down here and look at this before I have a nervous breakdown?"

I thought about the extent of my car knowledge: slim to none. But I could lend moral support.

"I'll be right down."

LK was pretty much oscillating on place when I showed up.

"Sooooo come look at this."

I looked at it and her bumper was pretty much on the ground.

"Um. I like think you shouldn't be driving."

"FUCK!"

"I mean LK, what happens if you're tooling down the street and the bumper just falls off? You could get into the biggest accident."

I devised a plan. I would drive her back to her apartment in Brighton, she'd get clothes and hunker down at the 405 K. Then in the morning we'd drive the the auto-body shop I know in Dorchester and get it all taken care of.

There. 'Nuff said.

Part 2: But I'm a parallel parking ninja!

After loading her bags into the new Jetta (we basically did everything but forward her mail to my apartment), we headed back in my pristine wagon to Southie.

I turned from Marine onto K street and went inching down my block hoping for a spot in front of my building. AH-HA! There was one!

"Oh perf! I can so fit here."

"Uuuuh..." LK looked nervous.

"Don't worry," I said all smugly, "I'm a parallel parking ninja."

Now mind you, I just got this car about three weeks ago (BTDubbs: it still needs a name...) and the 2008 Jetta's are longer than the 2004s. So I'm still getting used to it. I backed it in and, save a little Boston bumper love tap given to the SUV behind me, I was pretty good to go. Or so I thought.

A few minutes later I was not so good. I looked over and this really hot guy walking his Weimaraner was right next to my car. The dog was bouncing up and down wanting some serious love.

"HI PUPPY!!!!" I was pretty much in a spot tighter than a crabs asshole and all I could do was think about how cute this guy and his dog were.

The guy spoke up, "Wow. If you get in there...I...I...that's....oh man that's AWESOME!!!"

LK got out and surveyed the situation.

"Um girlfriend you need to get out of there."

"REALLY???"

"Uh yeah. You need to get out."

"But I think I can fit!"

"No girlfriend. You can't. It's not worth it."

"Oooh merrrrrrrr...."

So I shimmied my way out and we found a much larger spot up on Columbia.

I turned to LK as I put the car in park and said, "Is there like, any damage on my car?"

"Ummm..."

I got out and, well, let's just say it's a good thing we were going to the auto-body shop in the morning.

Part 3: Lemme push up ya bumpa!

In the morning LK followed me to Susi's Auto-Body in Dorchester. Have you guys ever been there? It's like a g-damn death trap to get through that intersection with all of the blinking lights! Susi's Auto-body was smart to put their shop there. I'm sure there are about a million accidents a week at that intersection AKA: the cross roads of hell.

Anyway so we meandered our way in. LK told the girl that she was involved in a hit and run and could someone take a look at her bumper.

This incredibly cute guy came sauntering out to assist us. Visualize: about 5'8'' dark hair, work boots, Puma sweatshirt and hands stained black from working on cars. Actually when I write it out it sounds kind of unappetizing but trust me. He was hot.

"So I got in a hit and run last night."

"Yeah see hea where ya bumpa should be? Ya bumpa ripped off, so ya bumpa needs to be pushed back up."

Uh huh...

Mr. Hottie Hot proceeded to go into detail about his next steps. LK and I just stood there pretty much drooling.

"So I mean I can give you a quote for the bumpa to be fixed..."

Oh yeah...

"But if I open ya hood..."

Hot...

"And there's structural damage..."

Fix my damage...

"I mean it could be more..."

Gimme gimme more...

LK came back to reality, "Ok. Basically I need this bumper to last me until March. Because I'm moving and once I move then I don't really care about the car. It can disintegrate into a pile of dust."

I chimed in, "And I have to say my sister has been here a few times to get her car fixed and you guys have done an amazing job."

Hottie Hot looked over all serious and goes, "Oh well thank you. Thank you very much."

LK and I just sort of stood there with our thumbs up our asses and waited.

Finally Hottie Hot spoke, "Ok so do you have twenty minutes? If you have twenty minutes I can just try to push up ya bumpa."

Oh sweetie. You can take all the time you need to push up my bumper.

I looked at LK, "Ok. We'll leave the car and go get coffee." I looked at Hottie Hot, "Do you want a coffee?"

Smoooooth like buttah.

"No, no thank you." *smile*

Hot.

"Um actually can you take a look at my car while you're out here?"

"Sure."

We sidled up to my back bumper. "I, uh, had a little parallel parking incident last night."

"Oh yeah? Well you live in Southie so I can toooootally understand that."

We looked at my bumper with the "scratches."

"So...do you think you can just like buff that out?"

He gave me a price which was not the million dollars I thought it would be and LK and I got ready to go get coffee. But before we drove off I asked her if she got his name.

"Oh, what's your name again?"

Hottie Hot turned to us and goes, "I'm Rob. Rob Susi."

And his name's on the door!!!!!

Coffee in hand we sauntered back in to the waiting area.

LK looked at me and goes, "We have gotten SO MUCH done today!"

"I know right!!!"

We looked over and LK's car was peeling out of the garage. Rob Susi was ready to give us his fair ass-essment.

"Oh hey. You girls ah back. I didn't see yiz come in. So come on ova and I'll show yiz what I did to ya bumpa."

We looked at the front end and it looked pretty much brand new.

"See, right hea you should have like white plastic things. But you were missin' those so I just took a few nuts and bolts and nut and bolted ya bumpa back on."

Please note that he explained this much more elegantly but I don't speak car.

"OMG!" exclaimed LK, "It looks great!"

"So is it OK to drive?" I asked.

"Well I mean if you're just like driving down the street you'll be fine, but if someone hits ya bumpa again it could come off."

Good enough.

"So thanks ladies! Have a good day."

"Wait. How much do I owe you?" LK asked (all the while thinking "please let me pay you in sexual favors, please let me pay you in sexual favors")

"Oh nothin'. You're all set."

"Are you serious?"

"Oh yeah. We do this type of little stuff all the time." (Love it. Little stuff. If my bumpa came off I'd be laid up with a bottle of Xanax. But to him it's little stuff.)

Then Rob Susi gestured towards me, "And your sista came in here so you're all set."

"Wow. Well thank you."

"Ok girls. Have a good one."

You don't get cuter than him. I could've listened to him say BUMPA and All I gotta do is push up ya bumpa all G-damn day.

LK is trying to devise a way to thank him for his pro bono bumpa work. I'm trying to find a way to sabotage her so he'll pro bono my bumpa.

Much ado about my arm

I drifted into a peaceful slumber fairly early last night. Around 11:30 I called it lights out. Which for me is early considering I'm usually roaming the halls of my apartment at 1a.m. So after reading a half a page of the unauthorized biography of cocaine (it's nothing to sniff at....) I passed out.

I had a dreamless sleep until about 5:30 when I suddenly woke up. I shifted around and the left side of my body felt weird. "Hmm..."  I thought in my snooze induced haze, "I can't feel my arm." I reached over to feel it and my arm was gone.

Uh.....wait. It was there when I went to bed. I think.

I reached my perfectly good right arm over to where I thought my left arm should be  and felt around. Nothing.

"SHANAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!"

I was thrashing my body around and could see my left arm waving about but obviously couldn't feel it. I was freaking out and started to cry.

"SHANAAAAAAA!!!!"

My sister came running into my room. "WHAT!!!"

"MY ARM! IT.....IT'S NUMB!!! I CAN'T FEEL IT!!!!"

I truly thought in the course of six hours I had come down with some strange tropical arm disease and that I'd have to get it amputated.

Shana sat on the side of my bed and immediately that tinglyslashsortofpainful feeling came into my arm.

Shocker. I was fine.

I'm not entirely sure how I was sleeping on my arm. I mean, I must've had the thing completely under me to lose feeling from shoulder to tip!

After thoroughly freaking myself out, I weeped a little bit more and mumbled a sleepy apology to my sister.

"I thought we were being invaded," she said. 

The interesting thing is that if we were being invaded and Shana started to freak out I'd just reply, "It's fiiiiiiiiine."


Blogger's note to Buka and Fresh Cal:

Another good reason to live with a sibling. They get up and run to your bedside when you are 120% positive that your arm has gone dead. Thiiiiiiiiink about it.

Excuse me! Pardon me! Awkward coming through!

So last night LK and I, after a grueling evening of Christmas shopping at Hallmark in Dedham, decided to order sushi from Teriyaki House in South Boston. She double parked and I headed in to pick up the grub. As I'm opening the door this guy turns around and lo and behold it's someone I used to date, which isn't surprising because Boston is a small city. (Mind you I use date very loosely since we really only "hung" out for maybe six weeks. And by "hung out" I mean slept together...if you can even call it that. More like me going on a trip to a construction site to see how the Jack Hammer operator works "O-O-O-O-O-OH MMM-M-M-M-M-M-Y-Y-Y-Y-Y-Y G-O-O-O-O-ODDDDDD. TTTTTHHHH-I-I-I-ISSSSSSS I-I-I-I-I-I-I-ISSS H-O-O-O-OTTTTTT...." Ladies holla back if you feel me.)

Anyway it ended sketchy on his part. Meh, you chalk it up to experience right? So I walk in and we obviously see each other. I give him the slight eye brown raise signifying recognition. His response was to put his head down and peace out of the Teriyaki House mumbling "Excuse me! Excuse me!"

Uh. What?

Did he seriously just straight up scuttle away like a little girl late for class? What did he think I was going to do? Beat him up? Shove California rolls down his throat until he couldn't take it any more?

Oh please.

Locker Room Etiquette Pt. 2

I've discussed locker room etiquette before. I know I blogged about it a year ago when this old lesbian was chatting with me while I was trying to change. And while staring at the girls she commented about how cold it was in there.

I mean I handled it like the classy broad I am but in my mind I was thinking "next stop awkward city".

It's just, when you're in a locker room, unless it's some sort of illicit "chica bow bow" setting you give the person next to you some privacy!

This was not the case for me today. After my lunch time work out I pimped to my locker to get ready for a quick shower. It has to be said that the towels they give you to shower with are the size of picnic napkins. You either wrap yourself in 12 of them and risk a towel malfunction or you walk around naked. I'm no prude but come on. Do you really need to sashay around there in all of your God given glory?

Me thinks no. This is why I bring a robe. I realize that I look like a freshman in college what with my robe that has pink bees on it and my blue and white polka dotted shower flips but I'm ok with it.

Anyway I was trying to get into my robe but there was this girl who was in the same area of the locker room as me. And she was not shy. She was butt ass naked in the middle of the locker room with her back to the lockers and facing me.

Uh...erm.....merrr...

My first thought was "Can this chick like turn around!" and my second thought was "Here's the number to my waxing girl." For real! Not like I could help but see. She was practically goose-stepping around the BSC showing herself off!!!

I just don't understaaaaand!!! You're in a locker room! You're not in the bathroom of your apartment. No one is trying to see that.

MOH in t-minus 366 days!! (leap year this year)

Holy *GAH*!!!!!!

The Bride has informed me that exactly one year from this date, NOVEMBER 15TH, she will be getting married, which means that exactly one year from this date I am the MOH.

I realize that the focus should be on her and that she's getting married but here at YGIU.com it's all about me :)

So the good news is that she found her dress (hooray) and that means that we will not have to be attending the running of the brides at Filene's Basement in Downtown Crossing. Honestly, love you long time Zing but that had me a little stressed out. I don't think of myself as someone who would physically hurt another human being on purpose but I had visions of elbows flying and hair pulling (not in the good way). I probably would have gotten a pair of brass knuckles custom made with MOH on them. (OMG I kinda want those now...)

The second round of good news is that the bridesmaid dress she picked out is NOT UGLY!!! It's actually gorg-O!!! Not that I think Zing would ever pick something HEIN-O but you'd be surprised at what some people will choose for their maids to wear while waltzing down the aisle.

For example:

I'm getting a tan from the glare alone. And breaking out into hives.

There are no words for the Pepto-Bismol nightmare above....

Oh are you getting married on the 4th of July?? Well here you go!

Seriously. I just projectile vomited everywhere. *shudder*

So now I know my dress is fab-U and I can start working on my arms. What? Everyone's got their thing.

Stay tuned for more MOH news! Now that we are within a year things will start getting cranked out!

Xx

I caved to Britney Spears

I swore up and down that I would not entertain thoughts of downloading Britney Spears' new album when it came out. I steadfastly refused. She's a mess and a bad mom and a drug addict and just a train wreck no matter how many ways you slice it.

I mean...exhibit A: Her VMA crack out comeback

Please. Charles Manson would have an easier time entering back into society.

So when Black Out hit stores I said, "Nope. Not gonna do it". I mean. I would jam out when "Gimme More" came on the radio but that was it, just some harmless booty shaking. Black Out would never have a home on my iPod.

Meh.

After tooling around in LK's car last Sunday and listening to "Piece of Me" I caved. I caved like a molten lava chocolate cake after you tear into it for the first bite. Like Adam, I too, took the apple. (Well that might be a little overly dramatic. I mean...comparing my lack of will power to The Old Testament...? Mmmmmaybe a bit much.)

So now, thanks to the iPod stylings of one Jessica Sutton I'm all Britney Spears-ed up. Currently listening to...um...what am I listening to..? "Heaven on Earth". It sucks btdubb.

She is just such a mess. And the thing that kills me is that, while this album is not going to win any Grammy's, it could do well if she just got her shit together and did some hard core press for it.

But man do I love me some "Hot as Ice" even if the name of the song doesn't make any sense. Hey we never said she was a Rhodes Scholar.

My thoughts on falling back.

Falling back is supposed to be a good thing right? Everyone always falls all over themselves when we change the clocks back because we gain an hour of sleep. Like it effing matters! Inevitably you stay up later because in the back of your brain you feel like it's OK because you're gaining an hour of sleep. Back when you were a kid it was cool but not now. I don't even know which end is up so one more hour is not going to affect me all that much.

Or woud it?

I had the day off on Monday because a couple of weekends ago I worked on a Saturday. We were promised a comp day if we worked and last Thursday I decided that my much needed day off was to be this past Monday. And basically I didn't want anyone forgetting that we could take the day off so I wanted to do it as soon as possible.

Well at 6:30 Monday morning I was wide awake. Now it has to be said that I don't rise that early when I am going to work. So why was I up at that ungodly hour when I could sleep until 3 and all would be forgiven?

I fell back asleep but was then woken up at 9:00 when my new amaaaaaaazing Black Berry started chirping that I had an email. It was from a guy that I was "dating". Who sends emails that early????? Meh. That would never work.

At 10:00 I decided to rise from my slumber, make a cup of coffee and an English Muffin and get back into bed to watch Freaks & Geeks.

On to the gym. I plodded along down Washington Street through annoying traffic and wizzing by copious amounts of homeless people. (That's the thing about the South End...on one hand you have the homeless and then you turn the corner to the other hand and you have 2.8 million dollar town houses. Nothing like some healthy gentrification.)And I was tired. G-damn tired. The last thing I wanted to do was work out but the Fresh Tortilla and the 8 beers I had Sunday night were making sweet love to my ass and stomach respectively so off I went to meet JSutt.

Now I'm not entirely sure what people are doing at the gym at 1:15 in the afternoon but on this particular day it didn't look like working out. Apparently the time change has no effect on the gay men of the South End because I felt like I was in some sort of testosterone filled, hormone charged smorghasborg while I did my chest press with 20lbs of weight. There was hard core butt staring and guys pretending to not know how to do certain machines. I was in awe. I sat there with my measly weights beside me and took mental notes and tried to figure out how I would apply these tactics in my regular life. Maybe if I'm at Shaw's shopping for meats I can ask the deli guy how big of a sausage he thinks I can take and see what his reaction is.

No??? Ok. Well mmmmmaybe depending on how hot the deli guy is...

I had a master plan that on my day off, I was going to get my oil changed on The Rollerskate and then walk to my nail place to get my mani/pedi while I waited. Well I left the Rollerskate safe and sound with the nice guys at the Shell station on West Broadway and marched up the street to my place. But on the way I passed a new nail salon, Queen Spa. No one was inside save for one Asian lady staring longingly out the window. I decided to get my mani/pedi there.

Oh dear. The following series of events are why I don't like it when plans change.

"Can I help yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeew??"

"Yes. Manicure/Pedicure please."

"Ok. Come over here."

I sat down on one of the brand new cushiony chairs and the woman started my pedicure. I just have to note that the girl bending down over my overly grown toe nails was pregnant.

"I be right back."

"Mmmmmok..." I was tapping away on my BlackBerry.

She came back with a stone and started rubbing it all over the bottom of my feet.

"Is this too hot?"

"No. It's fine," I looked up and smiled at her.

More rubbing. I felt a slight warming sensation. It was nice.

"How about now?"

"Uh. Yeah. It's OK. It feels good."

"You just tell me when it gets too hot for you. Because this stone is REALLY hot."

"Um. OK..."  (I just have to note here that I have an unusually high tolerance for heat. I'm able to eat steaming hot things right out of the oven/microwave and drinks that are considered scalding hot for others are like iced coffee for me. It's weird I know.)

"Now?"

"No. It's fine. I like it."

"Really? Because stone very.."

"Actually yes! Right now it's too hot."

"Okaaaaay."

Then the pregnant lady doing my toes started speaking Korean to the old biddy who was folding fliers. This is how I think the clandestine Korean conversation went down:

"I can't believe this crazy girl. Stone so hot!"

"Crazy girl tapping away on BlackBerry like it rough."

"Yeah. She like being tossed around like rag doll I bet."

"Oh yeeaaaaah......heheheheheheheheheeh....(turn and smile to me)..."

Then she started scrubbing my feet down with the hard sponge thing. She was in it to win it and at one point I couldn't tell if the vibrating was from the chair I was in or from her scrubbing away my calluses.

I was all painted and ready to move to the manicure chair. I went to whip my foot around and knocked over the little wheely drawer thing that housed the open nail polish, the salt scrub and all of the sanitized pedicure tools.

"Oh I'm so sorry."

But they weren't having any of it because as I was apologizing my Blackberry was chirping and my purse was wide open and I was balancing my coffee and wallet on my nose. The over turned rolly drawer thing wasn't really phasing me. But it should have because I was brought up right.

The rest of my manicure went off with minimal hitches. The only other bummer was that when I went to pay they informed me that their debit card machine was out of order and I needed to go get cash. Which was annoying. I had to hobble across the street with my feet in flip flops made out of a millimeter of rubber and little pink and green toe separators.

Oh and I was still in my gym clothes. Hot stuff.

My resistance to the time change is still in full effect. Yesterday I walked around the office feeling like I was hung over (which I wasn't thankyouverymuch) and looking like I was poor (the shirt I wore to work was super short and too long in the arms). And today I'm still tired even though I got a whopping seven hours of sleep (I can usually sustain on five so the extra two hours are like Christmas morning.)

I'm hoping to get over my seasonal jet lag by next week.