Here’s how the weekend went down:
Took the boyfriend to the airport on Friday evening in his car because mine sucks right now. Following a pit stop to do a little Friday evening shopping on the route home, I returned to his car, put the key in the ignition.
No turn; no nothing.
Truth be told, this isn’t the first time his car has demonstrated its hatred of me. Last time I was in a Costco parking lot, sweating bullets, screaming, praying and then screaming at the car. After about 15 minutes of this scene, I got out and grabbed the first sucker non-creepy citizen to help me. Well, he couldn’t get it either. (validation!) He suggested I ask one of the maintenance men inside the car section of Costco to help me.
It’s a good thing I’m not shy, folks.
So I marched right in there, batted my eyelids, pouted my sweaty-faced lips and begged one of the big strong Costco car men to come help me.
Flash forward to Friday night. There were no Costco men in sight. It was me v. car and I wasn’t about to let car win. So I got out, walked around the car, got in and presto! It worked.
Despite the fact that I was starving, and that I had very little food at home, there was no way I was stopping ANYWHERE after that. I pulled the car into the spot and that’s where it stayed until Sunday morning when I used it to pick up the boyfriend. It also liked me much better on Sunday – only sticking a little bit before turning on.
On Saturday, I didn’t need a car. First I ran six miles with Gertie -dodging the walkers in an Arthritis charity walk. “Dog and runner on your right. ” “Coming through with a dog.” “On your left.” “Scuse us.” “Sorry, coming through.”
At one point, Gertie, upon seeing a very terrifying stroller, took a sideways run, wrapping her leash around an unsuspecting gentleman. This caused me to say a choice word, and then I realized there was a child right by him. Oopsie.
I forsee the Karma from that event haunting me in my future.
After a very eventful run, and stuffing my face with some macaroni and cheese as to not drink on an empty stomach, I joined the ranks of the young and foolish in Kansas City for the pub crawl.
First off, I have to say that I might have walked away before even getting started had my group not been super cool.
I was standing outside bar #1 (of 5), waiting to meet up with my group and this young little blond girl was jumping up and down, “OH MY GOSH! You guys?! We get to go to Ernie Biggs. I’m sooooooooooo happy we get to go to Ernie Biggs. gush gush gush gush.”
Is this what I’m in for during the next five hours?
Yup, it was. Luckily my team took a diversion to a (gay) bar off course mid-way through our route. Loved it. While we didn’t get to drink for free, we got away from the masses and the Coors Light. (Blech.) And a certain bunch of our team, got to get their flirt on. I was fine and dandy just chilling out, watching the antics play out before me. Also, it was kind of awesome when our team captain asked me out on a date after seeing a picture of me in the Wonder Woman costume.
I think she was kidding?
All in all, my team made the crawl worth it, and I think we did something good for Cancer, but I’m not really sure.
All I know is that I’m old.
I was in bed by 8, full of beer, post-crawl Mexican food and a dayof good friends and lots of laughter.
Sunday I picked up the boyfriend from the airport and we spent the day together. We even survived our first “couples” trip to the mall. (Or rather, he survived his first trip to the mall with me.)