Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Tiramisu, small forks, and fucking mustangs.

Today was one of those days where you contemplate driving off a bridge so you can avoid the rest of this day and spend some time in the hospital where it is relaxing and stress free. Comparatively speaking, of course.

I didn't sleep very well, so I started off a tad on the wrong side of the bed. And by a tad I mean, I screamed at someone for cutting me off. Like, if we were cartoons, their hair would have been blown back kind of scream. I was all, whoa, Erratic, deep breaths, let's not freak out fellow drivers. In an attempt to calm down, I honked at someone going too slow and then promptly gave them the finger when I sped past them going far past the legal speed limit.

Then I learned how to count in my quantitative literacy class. I am not kidding. We spent an hour and ten minutes listening to "OK, class count how many people wanted Mr. A to win (EVERYONE!) and how many wanted Mr. E to win (NO ONE.)" I renamed Mr. E Ralph Nader and NOBODY GOT THE JOKE. I felt old. Then someone said "wasn't there something about dangling chads back in the 60's or something" and I visibly started to wrinkle. Organs started shutting down when I corrected them and said it was hanging chads. Holy Fuck, kids. Holy fuck.

While driving to work, I just exited the highway. No explanation, just got off at an exit. The exit I used to get off at, oh, 8 years ago when I lived there. Who just exits the highway for no discernible reason? This chick, that's who. (in case you were wondering, I was pointing at myself.)

At work we ran out of spare ribs, tiramisu, caramel sauce, table cloths, small forks, and dignity. I found tiramisu and actually hid it under a table so I wouldn't have to say, yet again, that we were out. I got yelled at by the dishwasher, the chef, my supervisor, and a plethora of angry caramel deprived residents. Why? I wish I could tell you. There was something in the water at that place tonight and that something was whiny little bitch and misplaced anger.

All of this I could deal with, I was dealing with in a pent up rage could explode at any moment way. It's how I do it. But, then THEN the icing on the mother fucking non-existent tiramisu happened. I was pulling out of work, and the exit looks like this: (YAY! PAINT WITH ERRATIC)
Do you like my stoplight? I was pretty proud of that, so you better like the mother fucking stoplight.

Anywho...so, I am turning left out of Work I. And there is this fucking moron with a 5.0 liter Mustang stuck in the snow at the storage place. He obviously turned in to turn around. His solution? Gun it. Into traffic. There are A LOT of people that leave around 8:00. It is a huge facility. And he is just flooring it into all this traffic trying to leave work and go home and get fucked up because THEY HATE TIRAMISU. I see this happening and leave enough space that if he guns it, he will not hit me. Because if he hits me, I will likely kill him with one of the small forks I am now hoarding in my apron.

He stops gunning it, giving me the impression that he is going to wait until the light turns green and traffic clears. So, I pull forward when the light turns and he stars GUNNING IT AGAIN. Only this time, he is starting to get free. Smoke coming from his tires, gunning it. Like, at any moment, he is going to break free and T-bone the side of my car. I have no choice, I must back up. Luckily there was only one car behind me and saw what was happening, so he backed up too. I am not even kidding, mustang douche missed the front of my car by inches, smiles, waves, and then goes through the light, leaving me to sit through another red light.

I am just saying right now, for the record, if I was only a tiny bit crazier than I am, I would have followed that mother fucker home and slashed his tires.

6 comments:

whimsy said...

This is why we will always be friends. This blog post right here. And, also for the recored, I got the Ralph Nader joke. I don't know why, but I got it.

Erratic said...

When I write posts like that, the people that don't actually speak to me...I always feel like they don't get it. Because that is my fast, angry, rage rant. Where no one really understands me because I talk so fast, but are too afraid to ask me to repeat the story. Sigh.

Also, I am in love with you for getting the Ralph Nader joke. Because, for reals, that shit was funny...and I got crickets chirping.

Bradshaw said...

Does it surprise you to know that I totally understood why you wrote like this? I get this way.

Also, the fucker in the Mustang? Needs to be shot for one, ruining the tires on a Mustang, two, being incapable of driving in snow, and three, being a jackass.

Josey said...

Who's stupid enough to drive a mustang in the snow anyway? Sheesh.

Ralph Nader...LOL...you're funny. :)

Josey said...

...oh, and BTW, I worked in a restaurant for years, and I have TOTALLY hid something that I found after telling the whole ANGRY FUCKING WORLD that we were out (namley, Mud Pie - an icecream cake topped with chocolate and almonds - yes, people got ANGRY when we were out.)

Anonymous said...

I didn't get the joke, so I googled: Ralph Nader "mr e".

The third link that came up was Erratic! You have arrived!

DD