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You ever have one of those days that you’ll remember for the rest of your life? Usually this involves a trip abroad, a beautiful wedding or a pristine ocean sunset. In my case, it was none of the above.
This day started like any other day. My alarm went off and the first thing through my head was, “Fuck I can’t wait to be home later.” This day was extra shitty because I was up earlier than usual. Why you ask? Well, my old car’s transmission had seemingly died on me the previous night after a wonderful date night. I left my car in a high probability tow area so we were up at the asscrack of dawn to hustle down before the predatory towing companies descended on my car like blood in the water.
Thankfully, I made it down to my car before anyone had the notion to tow it. However, that didn’t stop a geriatric from accosting me. After shimmying my car into reverse, a feat the ol’ girl couldn’t do the day before, an old lady carrying an oxygen tank had parked nearby and let me know quite vocally that, “I am not allowed to park there” and “I need a permit” even though I was visibly leaving the area. Thanks old lady. I know. I would have much rather have driven my car back to my house than call an Uber like I had to the day before. Glad you couldn’t stand to mind your own business, though.
Mrs. Madoff sarcastically thanked this wonderful Samaritan with many a choice word. It made me slightly afraid and kind of aroused to have my woman stand up and fight the good fight versus the injustice of the entitled old lady. I wished her a good day and told her I hope her children get her the nicest retirement home money could afford. I then limped my piece of shit car to my mother-in-law’s house because it has a garage.
Mrs. Madoff’s father is a redneck engineer. The man could MacGyver the Death Star back into operation so if he can’t fix it, I’m fucked. But he needed some fuel in his belly in order to be able to try to make an attempt, and the only way to acquire said fuel was a trip to the hallowed halls of the local Shoney’s. Prior to this point, I had made it a life mission to never go to Shoney’s as I’d rather shop local than at chains, but I was at the mercy of the one that may fix my car since I can barely check my oil.
For the uninitiated, Shoney’s is a low-budget-fat-people-trough of a buffet. A quick inventory of the place led me to realize I was by far the most fit person in the entire establishment. I wasn’t very hungry as the realization that my car was fucked had me stressed out, combined with the fact that the food was cafeteria quality. After finishing some deep fried brown food, we went back to the house and realized that, in fact, my transmission was fucked.
From there, we dropped off my shitmobile off at father-in-law’s high school friend’s transmission shop. It came highly recommended by all the other people they went to high school with. The shop confirmed that I was fucked. After hearing that I now owe around $3,000, I started to laugh so that I didn’t cry. The reality of adding a new car payment onto my already stocked docket of bullshit just wasn’t computing. After that debacle, it was time to head into work so I could make money to pay my student loans.
Now, I’m not sure if you all have ever had the (mis)fortune of eating at Shoney’s, but that stuff goes right through you. Combine this with a few cups of coffee and a heavy load of stress, and that’s a recipe for a rumble in the jungle. I barely made it to the can in time. Thankfully, I had my trusty phone with me to get me through my “ride the lightning” experience.
My favorite shitter at work is a tight fit, but the TP dispenser is generally a perfect place to put my phone. I put my phone on there every single time because let’s be real, everyone is on their phone on the toilet. I went to parcel out myself a healthy serving of TP (single ply), using a judo chop to cut the tickets off the roll. This shock onto the taut single ply sent shockwaves down the line. Like the last shot in Happy Gilmore, my phone jettisoned directly into the toilet.
Have you ever had something feel like it lasts forever but it was only a second or two? I found myself making a difficult decision in the blink of an eye: let it be, or pull my phone out of the toilet. The phone that is currently sitting atop a Shoney’s Special shit. Some of you may say you wouldn’t do it, but I was not letting my phone die, especially with the expensive day I was having. So I did what I thought was best and scooped that sucker out. I will say that the fine folks at Samsung built a tank and it works flawlessly, albeit being temporarily covered in human filth.
It was a rough day, from getting accosted by a geriatric, the anxiety that comes with any major car problem to feeling my own shit while pulling my phone from Thomas Crapper’s magnum opus. I’ll have you know, I scrubbed myself and my phone, then coated my poor phone in hand sanitizer multiple times. While this day in the grand scheme of things was pretty bogus, like the phoenix, I will rise from my ashes because these student loans don’t pay themselves. If you’re ever having a bad day, remember, it can and usually does get worse..
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