Post by Johnny Danger (Godz) on Dec 22, 2008 9:27:07 GMT -5
I know youse guys could probably care less about this, but, I can't gripe about this on MySpace or Facebook because of prying eyes, so....here goes.
First, to set up the story. I work really hard in a job that I neither love or hate, but bottom line is very hard work. I work in a manufacturing/production plant and my job duties range from doing a final quality check on just about EVERY piece of product we sent out, doing the shipping, making deliveries to a local customer....and whatever else needs being done. I'm lifting hundreds and hundreds of pounds a day on a back that probably looks like Spaghetti Junction right here in Atlanta, Georgia! *thumbs up/cheap pop*
Also, my gallbladder is really on its last legs these day. I've been hospitalized over it three times over the past 2 years. I'm currently uninsureable because of it and can no longer afford to take myself to the hospital, so, once or twice a month its very normal for me to spend all night in agonizing pain, just lying in bed and crying and unable to do anything.
That was this Friday night, yet, I still stood up still in pain Saturday morning at 7 AM, with no sleep, to go in and do the 4 hours of overtime I promised I'd do for them...after already working 5 extra hours during the week.
Why am I telling you all this?
Because I don't think its too much to ask that my weekends should pretty much go how I'd like after I've somehow made it through another week without putting a gun in my mouth.
Oh, no.
I get home from my work around 1:00 Saturday afternoon, and its all I can do to drag myself into a bathtub full of hot water, and after thirty or so minutes of that, I stop hurting just enough to function. I've got a list of things I HAVE to do, go get my dog Goji's christmas presents, get something for my grandparents, withdraw the money from the bank I'm giving my parents, get groceries for christmas dinner, etc. So my girlfriend and I go to get the dog's stuff ($80 on presents for a dog, whats wrong with me?) when her friend calls us and wants to meet for lunch.
I of course want Panda Express because its good, fast, cheap, and, well....its pandas. And it makes me think of the Rock N Roll Express dressed up like pandas. I bet Panda Ricky Morton doesn't pay his child support either.
ANYHOW...so, naturally, the women want to go to a very overrated (read: Needlessly expensive because it caters to 'trendy' high school kids) pizza place. I begrudgingly agree, and end up spending $50. On lunch. For pizza. Not even a "thank you" out of the friend, but, eh, I like her, so I let it pass. (Yes I paid for everyone. Its just what I always do.)
So anyway, while we're sitting there eating, it is decided for me that I am going to spend my Saturday night as personal security for the two of them so they can go to some bar/club/christ I don't even know one from the other...in downtown Atlanta where they don't feel safe by themselves. Apparently there's some alcohol fueled crapfest going down and the friend wants to talk to some broad there about becoming part of her pin-up girl show or something. I don't know. All I know is its about 45 minutes of driving and I don't want to do it, because I despise other people, loud music, drunk people, and smoking.
So they spend about two hours getting ready while I'm playing ShowDown Legends of Wrestling (Yes, I WAS THAT F***ING DESPERATE....HAVE YOU PLAYED THAT GAME?!) on the XBox. Then we get in the friend's ginormous van and are on our way.
She at least pays her own admission to get into the place ($5 so I can't really bitch) but a thank you from my g/f woulda been nice. I know, we're 'together', its only $5, but its common courtesy and she doesn't even ask, just stands there at the ticket counter like a dumb broad till I get over there.
Oh, I suppose this may be a good time to tell you that because of my current health concerns, I've been told not to drink. So WTF AM I GOING TO DO HERE, EXACTLY? Well, its not quite as bad as I thought, the music is at a tolerable level, and they have couches and s*** about 20 feet away from the bar where people can't smoke so I can sit there where it won't bother me as much. I'm instructed to watch out for them and they are off on their merry little way....and for the next 2 hours, they talk to me for approximately 20 minutes. No, really. I kept track. Couldn't get a damn cell phone signal, at least I could've called someone...shoulda brought a book, but, even I'm not nerdy enough to think of that.
Oh, also, on the way over they were asking if there was anything I wanted to do while we were out to make up for me going along with them. There was, I suggested it, and they both agreed it would be fun.
Nope.
Instead around midnight, they finally decide to leave, and, oh, hey Godz? Even though you don't know where we are, its dark and you can't see good, we're drunk so we need you to drive the van. Yeah, the GIANT van that you've never driven before, with bad brakes, a faulty electrical system, NO REARVIEW MIRRORS....through downtown Atlanta. And that thing you wanted to do? F*** that we're tired.
So now I'm pissed at them both and am probably cast as the bad guy in their version, but, whatever. I'm so sick of women at this point I could just scream. I wish there was an alternate choice...not women, not being gay, but...like....a woman who has the common sense of a guy? Or at the very least, one who would show me a little more respect or seem interested in me.
Hmm.
Nah. It'd never work.
First, to set up the story. I work really hard in a job that I neither love or hate, but bottom line is very hard work. I work in a manufacturing/production plant and my job duties range from doing a final quality check on just about EVERY piece of product we sent out, doing the shipping, making deliveries to a local customer....and whatever else needs being done. I'm lifting hundreds and hundreds of pounds a day on a back that probably looks like Spaghetti Junction right here in Atlanta, Georgia! *thumbs up/cheap pop*
Also, my gallbladder is really on its last legs these day. I've been hospitalized over it three times over the past 2 years. I'm currently uninsureable because of it and can no longer afford to take myself to the hospital, so, once or twice a month its very normal for me to spend all night in agonizing pain, just lying in bed and crying and unable to do anything.
That was this Friday night, yet, I still stood up still in pain Saturday morning at 7 AM, with no sleep, to go in and do the 4 hours of overtime I promised I'd do for them...after already working 5 extra hours during the week.
Why am I telling you all this?
Because I don't think its too much to ask that my weekends should pretty much go how I'd like after I've somehow made it through another week without putting a gun in my mouth.
Oh, no.
I get home from my work around 1:00 Saturday afternoon, and its all I can do to drag myself into a bathtub full of hot water, and after thirty or so minutes of that, I stop hurting just enough to function. I've got a list of things I HAVE to do, go get my dog Goji's christmas presents, get something for my grandparents, withdraw the money from the bank I'm giving my parents, get groceries for christmas dinner, etc. So my girlfriend and I go to get the dog's stuff ($80 on presents for a dog, whats wrong with me?) when her friend calls us and wants to meet for lunch.
I of course want Panda Express because its good, fast, cheap, and, well....its pandas. And it makes me think of the Rock N Roll Express dressed up like pandas. I bet Panda Ricky Morton doesn't pay his child support either.
ANYHOW...so, naturally, the women want to go to a very overrated (read: Needlessly expensive because it caters to 'trendy' high school kids) pizza place. I begrudgingly agree, and end up spending $50. On lunch. For pizza. Not even a "thank you" out of the friend, but, eh, I like her, so I let it pass. (Yes I paid for everyone. Its just what I always do.)
So anyway, while we're sitting there eating, it is decided for me that I am going to spend my Saturday night as personal security for the two of them so they can go to some bar/club/christ I don't even know one from the other...in downtown Atlanta where they don't feel safe by themselves. Apparently there's some alcohol fueled crapfest going down and the friend wants to talk to some broad there about becoming part of her pin-up girl show or something. I don't know. All I know is its about 45 minutes of driving and I don't want to do it, because I despise other people, loud music, drunk people, and smoking.
So they spend about two hours getting ready while I'm playing ShowDown Legends of Wrestling (Yes, I WAS THAT F***ING DESPERATE....HAVE YOU PLAYED THAT GAME?!) on the XBox. Then we get in the friend's ginormous van and are on our way.
She at least pays her own admission to get into the place ($5 so I can't really bitch) but a thank you from my g/f woulda been nice. I know, we're 'together', its only $5, but its common courtesy and she doesn't even ask, just stands there at the ticket counter like a dumb broad till I get over there.
Oh, I suppose this may be a good time to tell you that because of my current health concerns, I've been told not to drink. So WTF AM I GOING TO DO HERE, EXACTLY? Well, its not quite as bad as I thought, the music is at a tolerable level, and they have couches and s*** about 20 feet away from the bar where people can't smoke so I can sit there where it won't bother me as much. I'm instructed to watch out for them and they are off on their merry little way....and for the next 2 hours, they talk to me for approximately 20 minutes. No, really. I kept track. Couldn't get a damn cell phone signal, at least I could've called someone...shoulda brought a book, but, even I'm not nerdy enough to think of that.
Oh, also, on the way over they were asking if there was anything I wanted to do while we were out to make up for me going along with them. There was, I suggested it, and they both agreed it would be fun.
Nope.
Instead around midnight, they finally decide to leave, and, oh, hey Godz? Even though you don't know where we are, its dark and you can't see good, we're drunk so we need you to drive the van. Yeah, the GIANT van that you've never driven before, with bad brakes, a faulty electrical system, NO REARVIEW MIRRORS....through downtown Atlanta. And that thing you wanted to do? F*** that we're tired.
So now I'm pissed at them both and am probably cast as the bad guy in their version, but, whatever. I'm so sick of women at this point I could just scream. I wish there was an alternate choice...not women, not being gay, but...like....a woman who has the common sense of a guy? Or at the very least, one who would show me a little more respect or seem interested in me.
Hmm.
Nah. It'd never work.
