Shaken and stirred
terry and i had a petty fight this morning. it's the kind of fight that happens when you reach a certain comfort with another person: you stop being afraid that they're going to walk out the door at any time, and suddenly you let them see you with bedhead; you pee in front of them; and you argue about eggs and name-calling.
i had prepared all kinds of scathing things to say to terry, real zingers. when i heard his voice on the other end of the telephone, i geared up for a scene. when he told me why he was calling, though, the fight was cancelled. refunds will be issued to all ticketholders.
"well, we'll be taking the shuttle to work for a few months," said terry. immediately i think to myself--oh god, his car's broken down and my car's been stolen. though this is perfectly irrational, it was the first thing to pop into my mind. as it turns out, terry wasn't thinking perfectly rationally, either, because my car is fine. it's his car that is royally fucked, and he doesn't even know who did it. the car that has caused us so many headaches--not starting in 20 degree weather when we're already late for work, for instance--has just become a headache in the form of twisted metal and missing headlights. someone smashed into his car in the night and drove off. the police took a hit and run report, disconcerting because it means that terry, innocent in every way except he trusted baltimore city enough to park on the street, is liable for a hefty insurance deductible.
for someone with my attitude toward living in baltimore, this is the worst possible thing that could happen at the worst possible time. i'm trying to fix it, but run-ins with bitchy checkout girls with hoop earrings, and hit-and-run accidents, and being taxed to death so that i can support free health care for drug addicts when i care barely afford to care for my own health, and...i'll run out of space before i run out of complaints.
somehow, cheap rent and good restaurants don't completely mask the fact that i'm living in a city in turmoil, a city where more people will ruin your car and drive away than will open a door for you. i'm from oklahoma, from the south, or midwest, or whatever you want to call it, and i refuse to accept that the only way to get ahead is to walk all over someone else.
posted by Robert @ Tuesday, February 01, 2005
4 comments
4 Comments:
if ticketholders were given no refunds, perhaps it would help to cover the deductible. just a thought.
there is sweetness hidden within these lines, you just have to look. the entry is the intimacy you describe when exposing bedhead and the pee-display. (actually, when one allows you to see them poop, then you know it is love...) And when he says "we" when talking about the wreck drama, for you two are combined in the mind. it's sweet. i know this sucks, but it still made me smile, he is lucky to have you. especially in baltimore.
don't blame it on hoop earrings, either.
we're poor.
we're getting sick of it too - doubly, as you know, because we're also trying to make it as singers and of course, that ain't happening. why is it that i never see james? why? because we're working our asses off, all hours of the day through 10pm at night and meet at home, exhausted, having just spent 1 hour commuting between one baltimore shithole to the next, narrowly missing jaywalkers (i especially love the ones that look right at you, through the glass, directly into your eye, as if daring you to hit them, because they'd be better off getting cohen & synder down the street to sue you for everything you're worth. ((aforementioned, we're poor anyway)) ) and homeless doggies and kitties (don't get me started.) all so you can lay down in your cheap apartment and be too exhausted to have sex by 11pm that night. oh, and then wake up to go to a relatively shitty job to serve even shittier people, who call you racist because you won't gift wrap a $2 pen. working only, of course, because uncle sam is calling and i need $110 a week to have my lesson - my only musical salvation/outlet at this time.
we're southward bound. if you and terry wanna come, we'll get an extra double-wide. we all, at the very least, need a weekend away. let's get a group together and go somewhere. soon. before james has a breakdown.
chiquita, it sounds to me like you need a 'blog. like all of us, you have a lot to get off your chest. there are two things on that chest, however, that i hope stay firmly planted.
sorry for venting. i just wanted you and the ter' to feel supported. i don't think i'm ready for the committment level of my own blog. plus, i don't like that word.
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