Belligerent Drunk.
Listen, some celestial isht is seriously retrograde. This has been one of the worst days I've had in recent memory (that didn't involve illness, dismemberment, injury or death, anyway. Thank God.). I woke up late, fumbled my way out the door, and got rolling. "It'll be alright," I thought. "I have tonight and tomorrow off to relax. Soon this bad start will be a distant memory." Nope. I realized early on that the day would suck, because I'd double booked and told Saffron I could have dinner with her and visit MoMA after I got off work at 5:30, but really I didn't get off until 6 (sort of) and then would have to wait around for Freshdirect. And every time I'd get a second to call, some isht would come up. Then I tried to call and discovered I couldn't call an international number. She had dinner with Berry, though, so that was okay. This Freshdirect isht happened. Now, I called these fools last night to be sure they wouldn't ass around with my account. You see where that got me. A quarter of a grand in the hole. The bitches. Then, my bosses (lovely, lovely folks) invited me to a black tie opening/party thing, in a way that said, "You don't have to come. But come." Black tie. So when I thought I'd be chillin' in jeans and my babies, drinkin' dirty martinis, I was instead rocking a fancy dress and (cute but painful) 4 inch heels, and sipping chardonnay to take the edge off the pain, dammit. I thought I'd cut out around 9 to hang out with TBNY and Saff, but that fell through, so instead, I spent the whole night at this party, not eyeing the "talent," because it was all either married with kids, old as Moses, gay, or security. I meant to catch a cab home. I really did. But I hobbled along and tried, from Madison Ave to Broadway, with absolutely no success, to hail one of those little yellow bastards. So I ended up on the got-damn subway. Thank god my feet are small enough for my comfy shoes to fit into my purse. If I'd had to wear those heels all the way back uptown, in the mood I was in, totally sober because I could not drink myself shitty with the free booze, as I'd wanted to, since it was my bosses' party and that would not have been kosher....There would have been carnage, my friends. Carnage. Oh. But I did see Mariano Rivera at the par-tay. Actually, I stood close enough to smell him. I didn't though. Smell him, I mean. That is to say, he didn't stink or smell of cologne. Anyway. He seemed nice. And he looked nice in his camel-suede jacket getup. He's a cutie-patootey. But I digress. Back to my shite day. When I got home, an apologetic email/phone message from Freshdirect was conspicuously absent. Thankfully, they did get part of the order right, so I'm currently drowing my irritation in Dos Equis and frozen pizza, and being a belligerent drunk on my blog. Muddafug! See? Belligerence.
posted by Sid @ 12/04/2004 01:19:00 AM
1 Comments:
That was a terrible, horrible, really bad, awful, no good day! You have had too many incidents of those people playing with your money. Is the convience really worth the inconvience? I've found that Fairway deliver is very efficient. A couple of times they have beat me home from the store! Well, at this point it is time to file a complaint somewhere. Isn't this like the third time they have effed with your money?
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