Thursday and Friday of last week were so stressful because our system was down at work and caused major havok and then Friday was that dreaded trolley detour that I told you I was dreading and for good reason too, it turned out, because it was a clusterfuck and I have never been around so many people freaking out about something at the same time as I was on Friday when the driver shut the door and stopped letting people off because it was taking too long and he was trying to explain over the intercom that staying on and doing it his way and not the was the Port Authority told us would be easier and faster but we were IN NO POSITION to believe this guy so we were all like, “OPEN THE DOORS! LET US OUT!” and it was a little bit like Train to Busan except that there were no zombies and we weren’t in beautiful Korea and everyone was speaking Yinzer English so no, actually, nothing like Train to Busan really.
Some passenger very calmly explained to some of us what was going on and eventually calmed us down and we all went and found seats, and it turns out that the driver really did know what he was doing and everything turned out fine and I wasn’t even late for work! And he even got back on the intercom once we got downtown and thanked everyone for their patience and told us to have a great weekend and hello, that never happens! Those drivers are usually like GET IN AND SHUT UP.
Prior to this, though, the fucking trolley stopped for a ridiculous amount of time so that THE LOCAL NEWS COULD FILM US BEING MISERABLE. I looked up and saw this giant camera pointed at me and texted Henry, “WHY THE FUCK IS A KDKA CAMERMAN FILMING ME RIGHT NOW I’LL SUE.” Anyway, my dumb face made it on the news and I was less than happy about it but at least my hair looked OK and they didn’t use the shots of me making eye contact with the camera and covering my face with my hair.
Saturday morning started off great! Blake and Haley moved in next door (!!!!) and while that was happening, I drove out to Cranberry to meet my buddy Jessy at First Watch for some breakfast action. I don’t get to see Jessy very often but we always seem to pick right up where we left off and it’s just a delight. I have known her since high school – she used to live on my street!
I was really excited to go to First Watch because they have MATCHA LATTE PANCAKES on their seasonal menu and helloooooo matcha. But first we had to sit inside for an endless amount of time, waiting to be seated, and eventually Jessy pointed out that everyone who was there before us had been seated and they were now seating people who came in after us and if there is one thing I hate in life, it’s being forgotten. I felt so worthless! So Jessy flagged down a hostess and asked if we could just sit at an empty table outside and the hostess was such a little cunt about it too, and was all, “You’ll have to wait until I seat these people” but then she did eventually come back and seat us outside and it was so fucking annoying. Every last girl in that place was a fucking rude asshole to us, except for our waitress, who was sweet and delightful and we had a great rapport with her until the very end when she dropped off our check and then promptly forgot about us and Jessy needed a take-out box.
So Jessy was like, “Fuck this noise” and called them from her phone to tell them that we had been forgotten and could someone please her a take-out box, and I was practically sliding under the table with laugher. Jessy doesn’t fucking play, you guys.
“I’m sorry, but we shouldn’t have to wait this long for everything!” Jessy said, and trust me, there was no need for her to justify it to me, I was just as forgotten as she was! First Watch might have good food and interesting options (especially for those of the vegetarian species) but the staff they had working that day was just the worst. The manager might have been the bitchiest of them all, actually.
I wasn’t impressed.
MAYBE I SHOULD WRITE A LETTER.
The rest of the day was pretty chill. Henry worked on some projects like a good boy while I jumped around the house while wondering what Blake and Haley’s noise ordinance threshold is. They claim that they can’t hear anything from our side of the house, so hopefully I can keep beating Henry with privacy while hysterically screaming the answers to “GUESS THE KPOP SONG IN 5 SECONDS” videos on YouTube.
Our house, man. Our house.
We went to Home Depot (*puke puke vomit*) that afternoon so Henry could get wood for the picture of Seoul he’s making. This project has been in the works since last September but he had to “think about how he wants to do it” and I guess that took 8 months? It will hopefully be magical and twinkling (it will light up!) when it’s done. If it’s ever done. It will also be super hard to miss because I think it’s like 6 feet wide or something which is actually smaller than I wanted but Henry started spewing out logistics and measurements and I walked away.
But yeah, I went to Home Depot with him because I wanted to get plants because I’m dumb and going to try and cultivate a plant family again. But then I got angry at the way mulch smells, and Henry had to listen to me rant about that.
Henry and I took a walk later in the evening though and stopped in the international market down the street so I could stock up on some new strange delights for the International Pumpkin of Horrors.
Sunday was kind of bad because I woke up in A Mood and it never really dissipated. I think I genuinely have food phobia/eating disorder/body dysmorphia — SOMETHING. Or I’m just flat out insane but that hasn’t been news since like, middle school. But yeah, even though I’m losing weight, I’m apparently still miserable so, there you have it. Sunday sucked.
Although it did get a little better in the evening. Henry was watching Kpop reaction videos and said, “Pfft, I could do that too” so now I’m trying desperately to get him to start his own channel: Truck-Driver Dad Warehouse Guy Reacts. He can react to unboxing videos because he’s so judgmental on how YouTubers handle box-cutters.
“THAT’S A GOOD WAY TO HURT YOURSELF” is his catchphrase.
Chooch was out and about during Saturday and Sunday because he’s popular and has shit to do.
Memorial Day was OK, but SUPER HUMID. We spectated the parade and then basically tried to not dehydrate the rest of the day. It was OK.
We wanted to get ice cream at Millie’s Monday evening, but they were closed, and then Remember When was closed, so we ended up at some soft serve snack shack by Henry’s work and I made the poor choice of getting a s’mores sundae, forgetting that I ordered this once before and they use that tangy chocolate sauce that I hate! Ugh, talk about shitting all over a sundae.
And Chooch ordered “Sticks and Stones” which is such a dumb name for ice cream because what flavor could that possibly be, playground dirt!? So of course he felt obliged to get it since he had to ask the stone-faced window-broad what it was (chocolate-covered pretzel sticks and cookie dough). I mean, why not just put the description under the name when you fucking know you’re going to get asked 87 times a day what the fuck it is.
I’m not mad about it though.
I was also gypped on the marshmallow sauce! That was the main reason I ordered it! I FELT LIKE MY DAY NEEDED SOME MARSHMALLOW TO BE COMPLETE.
Oh, Henry got his standard order of “twist with crunchies.”
But let’s back up. While in line for our ice cream, we witnessed a mild altercation between two women. Woman A walked in front of Woman B because Woman A’s grandson was waiting at the window to order and she was joining him. Woman B said “Excuse me, yeah I said excuse me for you since you pushed me and didn’t say anything” and Woman A was all, “I didn’t push you” and Woman B went on a tangent about how rude she was for pushing her and not saying excuse me so Woman A just turned around and ignored her and then I asked Henry if Woman A really did push Woman B and he mumbled, “Nope. She didn’t even touch her.” OH AMERICA. Can’t even go get ice cream without becoming irrationally angry and trying to provoke a stranger to fight you.
(It’s different when you go to an ice cream place and become RATIONALLY ANGRY though.)
Don’t you sometimes wish you could use Instagram filters to make people’s words prettier? Same, fam. Same.
But hey, Americans literally died so that we can run our mouths at strangers for absolutely no reason. What a country.