October 15, 2004
6:29 PM

Beware the Ides of October, part two


.
.
.
Continued from last entry. If you haven't read that yet, click it!

.
.
.
.
.
.
WEDNESDAY

I get around to depositing my cashiers check into my checking account. Of course I could do this at an ATM, but who knows how long it will be until it clears? Besides, it always seems pretty immediate when I do it at the bank. Some teller with a long unprounceable name containing too many consecutive consonants waits on me. While I'm there, she uses me as an example to train a very new employee with an hourglass figure and her name written on a piece of paper stuck on top of her name tag. They take a damn long time, as they always do at that bank. (Yes, I really do mean that. The tellers there are slow as hell.) They can't get the thing to work, so they call over a guy next to them. Suddenly I guess it's done because the lady is handing me my receipt without saying anything. Weird. Ah shit, this hasn't cleared! And my bill is due tomorrow.

5:00, I get an email. It's from Gloria's other partner, who I hadn't met yet. Gloria's in the hospital, he says, and has stayed their overnight. He gives me all the details. I run over to my boss "I have to leave early, my girlfriend's in the hospital. No, she's OK." "Just before you go, I'm going to be out for the next two days, so could you tell Greg that..." Arrrgh. A minute later I'm finally off. Which means I'm in the middle of rush hour.

I think to myself, "She's already in the hospital. She's not going anywhere. But she's been there overnight and unexpectedly. I'll bring her some things." I go home, which is just a few miles away, and grab certain book, a hair brush, and a hair elastic, and put them in a backpack that I planned on leaving with her too. I go back out the front door, and I notice that my breaks aren't working to well. Shit. Well, I have to go to that hospital anyway. So I head down the highway.

OK, these brakes are really sucky. (DOUBLE "FUCK YOU", NTB! Does really stand for "National Tire & Battery", or "Notorious Trapezoid Burglars"?) I pull into a rest stop and check things out. I notice a drip in front of the left rear wheel. Great, a fucking leak! I look under the hood. No brake fluid. Speaking of drips, as I'm standing there flipping through the book, a guy asks me for a jumpstart. He's a skinny dark-skinned black with glasses and an accent I couldn't place. He's driving with a middle-aged white man wearing a baseball cap that says "BILL". I give their P.O.S. a jumpstart. It runs for a bit, then dies. The guy says something about a piece of his under the hood, and asks about going to exit 11. I can't understand what the fuck the guy is saying, but sounds like he wanted a ride.

Fuck that, I have more imporant things at hand right now, and at that point I wasn't even 100% sure that my car would make it. I buy brake fluid and add it. I get back on the road. I get to what I thought was the hospital, but no, she's in the one down the street. The lady at the desk says I won't be charged for parking because of that, which is good. So I go to the other place. I walk from the parking garage to ER, get taken to several rooms (she had been moved), and go through a maze of corridors and extra large elevators until I finally find her in her room.

She's there. He's there. I do the obligatory handshake. He brought books too. Gloria is more than thankful for the hairbrush and the bag though. The three of us talk. A nurse comes in to do a quesitonaire. Gloria hates needles, and screams when they give her another IV.

THURSDAY

I try to drop off the car. It would have been another 3 hour wait. Fuck that! The guy suggests coming back first thing in the morning. They open at 7 AM. Urrgg. I go to the same ol' restuarant there. OK, NOW I'm starting to get sick of that place. I also try convincing the women at work "Hey, let's go there for lunch on Friday", mostly because I think I'll need a ride to pick up the car. This was the night I was originally planning to see Gloria, but of course she's in the hospital. But she's getting out and we're going to see each other! No, scratch that, change of plans. They're keeping her another night.

The credit card bill is due today. The cashier's check still hasn't cleared.

FRIDAY

Here's where I'll sum up two internet-related surprises I forgot to mention.

First, a certain woman -- let's call her Melody -- emailed me back. I was afraid she had ditched me all together. I met her and her two friends at the Alice Cooper show. That night deserved its own diary entry. Goddamn, all three of them are young and hot. Boy do I miss college. Ah, but "Melody". She had this radiating bliss about her that night, being so excited to see the show. We talked a lot about Alice, college, and what not. So hot, yet so girl-next-door looking. I can't remember the last time I went out with somebody like that. I gave her my email address and told her that I could send her bootlegs and what not. Well, she finally emailed me back and the correspondences keep going. We'll see where this goes.

That's the good suprise. Here's the fucking weird surprise. I found out that SP, one of the big-time "Salem Witches", is a member of the Church of Satan. To make an analogy for you non-Satanists reading: imagine you're on a Ted Nugent mailing list, and you see a member of PETA there who says she loves his music. Or imagine being a Catholic, going to a mass at the Vatican, and seeing Ghandi in the front pew. Not only is it just plain fucked up, but you have to wonder how this guy plans on keeping his Witch stuff going with a PR-damaging thing like this, or vice versa: how does he expect us Satanists to take him seriously if he's doing all this stuff for the white-light Wiccans and New Age shops? Finally, I had to say something and I let it all out. I KNEW this guy. He wouldn't remmeber be, but I've known him for 15 years, running into him at one store or event or another. What IS his game? Beats me. And now the guy emails me. Weird.

Speaking of Salem, I'm now off to see a friend's band in Salem. At this point, I wouldn't be phased if something additionally fucked up happens tonight.

�

previous - next

� Older Entries � � Latest Entry � � Email � � profile � � http://www.diaryland.com �

�


And all those damn diary rings:
Hell yeah I'm a guy!
<< � random � list � home � >>
Longhair
<< � random � list � home � >>
The Police Fans
<< � random � list � home � >>
I am not a teen
<< � random � list � home � >>
The Pro-Choice Ring
<< � random � list/home � >>
I am not a goth
<< � random � list � home � >>
Pleasure Seeker.
Hedonist Diaryring:
<< � random � list/home � >>
I know how to spell.
<< � random � list/home � >>
Butt Rockers Unite!
<< � random � list � home � >>
The Black Sabbath Diaryring
<< Osbourne � Dio � Gillan � Hughes � Martin >>
The Def Leppard Diaryring
<< � random � list/home � >>
The Marx Brothers Diaryring
<< Groucho � Harpo � Chico � Zeppo >>
About a 2 on the Kinsey Scale
<< � random � list � home � >>
Massachusetts
<< � random � list/home � >>