Bad Month

I've written this post too many goddamn times. All I want is to write a post about how shitty my luck has been - but the karma police have set up a sting and it seems I can't go 12 hours without the pigs flashing the red and blues and telling me to pull over. Its hard to pull a trainwreck over to the curb, Officer, but I'll do my best.

Monday I managed to step in dog shit - not just any dog shit, mind you - but superhuman dogshit the likes of which has never been encountered by mankind. I am fairly confident the dog had eaten eight pounds of Elmer's glue before he left that gift for my shoe. I sent a sample to NASA and have yet to receive confirmation that it was actually from this planet. I couldn't scrape if off in the snow, it fought my paper towel attack; laughed when I tried to use a Q-Tip; and finally defeated it with a wooden skewer.

Here's a tip for you home-improvement-impaired - do NOT throw a wooden skewer into the toilet - no matter how many pieces you break it into first. Of course the toilet clogged. Who didn't see that coming? I'm sorry to make this blog more predictable than an episode of Grey's Anatomy (no way - Denny had another heart attack?) - but I have no choice. So I moved on with my life sans toilet (yeah ladies - see me throwing out that French? I'm cultured too.)

Tuesday's workday was much like Monday's - what with the constant itch for suicide. After work things finally started looking up - Chipotle date with a girl I tricked into thinking I was charming and then back to my place to hang out. The roommate managed to fix the toilet and my wooing attempts were being met with oddly positive reactions. All is well and good and she takes off back for home around 2am and I get ready for some delicious slumber salad. Suddenly I look at my phone and see six missed calls. Thats odd. I call her back to check up why the cell phone attack and learn she has a flat tire and is stranded downtown. Cute girl. Downtown Cleveland. If you have ever been to W 6th you know it takes about 15 seconds for the creepers to come out. So I jump in my truck and go to save the day.

I speed across the Superior bridge - as she had done only moments before and BAM! Flat tire. Yes - I am that stupid to not look for the pothole that had just eaten her tire. Surprised? Were you not HERE for the skewer story? Seriously, Reader, pay attention or I'll turn this damn blog around and you won't get any ice cream.

So I've got a flat - but mine goes flat a quarter mile before hers had gone flat. So now, not only does my baby have a flat - but my date was stranded as well. I call and let her know that I am stranded and then get ready to fix my beloved truck. A cop passes without so much as a glance in my direction so I run up and tap on their window. They roll down their window with a disinterested look and I go into my spiel:

"Hey guys - I can change my tire but there is a girl a quarter-mile up the road that also has a flat. Can you go help her?"

"We can't do anything for her."

"She is stranded downtown by herself - you can't help her change it or call a tow truck?"

"Nope. We can go get her and bring her here - but you better get these cars out of here by morning."

Thanks cops. Glad to see you are willing to go the extra mile to protect a girl stranded downtown at 2am. Real stand-up job.

So they drop her off with me and we set forth calling tow-trucks and AAA. The tow trucks require $40 cash for each tow (neither of us have any cash) and AAA says it will take two hours for them to arrive. Looks like it is up to your fearless hero to crank these tires off.

After changing two tires in the 20 degree weather, we finally get back to my apartment at 4am. The next morning begins at 8am calling everywhere in Cleveland trying to find tires for both of our vehicles. We decide to take the tires to a place next to my apt to see if they could be repaired. We get hers fixed for $13 and learn mine will take a day or two (oh, and $230) to get in. Perfect. We take her tire BACK to my apartment - where her spare tire has already gone flat - leaving her helpless Civic stranded - and try to change her tire.

Now I know you can't jack a car up on a hill. I'm not an idiot. Ok, you read the skewer part, I AM an idiot - but not THAT big of an idiot. But she has flat - so I attempt to jack up her car on the hill to change the tire. Twice I jack the car up - twice it kicks out. The second time, to no one's surprise, the jack bends and leaves me without a jack for her car (because the jack for my truck is too big to fit under her car (thats what she said). We pull her car to flat land without too much damage - I somehow bend her jack into place enough to jack it up to a point where I can get the jack for my truck under it and finish the job - and fix her tire. For those of you keeping score - that is 3 tires changed and 5 times jacking up various vehicles. Cute.

So I stumble into work covered in grease and anger and manage to still rock out an 8 hour day - doubling the amount of sleep I got the night before. The week continues with calls to the shop - and no tire to be found. This means I am stuck driving on those damn mini-spare donuts that can't go over a speed of 50. Taking back roads too and from work everyday is a BLAST - you can't even imagine. My trip that already takes 30-40 minutes now takes 45-60. Not to mention all the time missed at work Wednesday morning adds up to an 11-hour day on Thursday and me being so exhausted when I got home that my roommate asked me if I was drunk.

My weekend went by with only a few minor glitches - eating entirely too much seafood at Parallax and wanting to die for 12 hours - followed by getting too hammered and passing out through a night I was supposed to meet the girl's friends (nothing like a first impression of, "Sorry - he's not going to make it - its 10pm and he has already been passed out for 2 hours").

So on to week #2. I thought the bad luck HAD to be over. I mean a bad day happens - a bad week, ok that sucks - but a bad month? That is ridiculous, God - grow up. But, alas, my week begins with no sign of my tire and me driving on my krispy kreme donut wheel that can't go over 50.

Wednesday breaks with me trying to sneak into the office early (not easy with the extended trip) but needing to hit up the bank to deposit money to pay for my tire that was promised to be in that day. I pull into the bank a few miles from work to find they don't open till 9am. Thinking I could just deposit in the ATM I tear my truck apart to find that while I DO have Minnie Mouse ears I don't have a pen. I wait 20 minutes until finally a nice lady pulls in next to me and jump out to ask her for a pen. She has a pen - but unfortunately does not have a spare set of keys for me to open the truck I just locked my keys in. I call AAA and wait the hour for them to arrive.

How is it that AAA can get to me in Warrensville Heights in an hour and can't get to downtown Cleveland for two hours? What strange, geographical anomaly is the AAA headquarters for Cleveland located.

AAA kid arrives - and immediately can't get the bar past my weather stripping and strips 3 inches of paint off of my frame while simultaneously ripping all of my weather stripping from my door. I was impressed they sent someone who could multi-task so well.

So now I am driving with scratched off paint, a donut spare and a strange grinding noise in my engine that I didn't even mention earlier because I wanted to spare you from the horror.

Of course my tire STILL didn't get in that day, I STILL worked till 11pm that night and sit here, today, without my tire. Did you notice how the beginning of this post was creative and funny and the end is just bitter and depressing? Welcome to my week.

I found out Thursday that my tire had been "discontinued" and the guy had to special order one from Idaho. The reason they didn't know this is because the computer system hadn't been updated so it listed the tire as shipped and on its way. This is all well and good if you don't happen to know a tire dealership and call them to find out there is a stockpile of my exact tire an hour and a half away in Toledo. I could have WALKED to Toledo and gotten the tire myself. This would have been expensive, seeing as being in Toledo for more than 15 minutes ensure SOMETHING will be stolen from you, but well worth it, I believe.

Fast forward to Friday and I get a notice in the mail that I failed to pay my city tax and was charged a late fee - which I found odd since they had already taken my money from my bank account. Apparently that first $300 didn't count and the city wants a do-over. I'd rather try to teach physics to the girl who takes phone orders at the Chinese restaurant than call the city and get this sorted out.

The shitty week capped off me sitting on a chunk of chocolate on my drive home and getting chocolate all over the only pair of jeans I brought home. After those two weeks - it was actually fitting for me to look like I had shit myself.