lobsterchick's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Instant Karma, Just Add Water, Part the Second (continued from yesterday) The cop hightails it to my car now and sasses that it wouldn't have happened if I hadn't been sitting in the lane to begin with. She asks to see my license and insurance cards. So I give them to her and she disappears back into her cop car. I keep an eye on her in my rearview mirror, along with an erstwhile glance toward the door of City Hall, just in case DS comes back out in the middle of this business. The cop takes an eternity writing the ticket out, and all the while, other cops are coming up to the window of her squad car. They talk to her for a second, then look at me, and shake their heads. This happens, like, five times. I begin to worry that there's something on my record that I don't know about, and that instead of writing a ticket, she's planning on arresting me. Then I realize THAT I'VE JUST STARTED MY PERIOD. So I'm working out in my head some small speech about, "Okay, I'll go to jail, I get it, but can I wrap my jacket around my waist before you put the cuffs on? And do you have a spare tampon, officer?" Finally, though, she comes back, with not one, but two tickets. "The insurance card you gave me is expired." "Oh. I have the current one in here somewhere if you'll just..." "No, that's not good enough. I already wrote the ticket." "[Sigh.]" She proceeds to explain to me that I don't have to sit back and take the tickets, that I (gasp! wonder! thrill!) can go to court and contest them. For the insurance card one (which, by the way, she still HAS IN HER HAND AND CAN STILL TEAR UP), I can just take my current insurance card (WHICH, BY THE WAY, I HAVE IN MY HAND, AND CAN SHOW HER) and prove that I had current insurance on the day I was pulled over. I sign the tickets, and after a lengthy examination process of the street, I venture out into an empty lane. In order to get back to where I was and pick DS up, I have to drive around the block, at which point I just start crying. I haven't ever in my life gotten a ticket that wasn't for speeding and now here I am with two, one I deserve and one I do not. I'm feeling nervous about returning to the scene of the crime, so when DS gives me a bitchy look about taking so long to pick him up I gather up all my rage, put it in a brown lunch bag, set it on fire, and hurl it at him, screaming, "GET IN THE MOTHERFUCKING CAR!" To which he replies, [stand, open-mouthed]. "I said, 'GET IN THE GODDAMNED CAR!' I JUST GOT TWO TICKETS AND I'M SURE THE COP ISN'T GOING TO BE THRILLED TO SEE ME BACK HERE AGAIN." Finally, taking his sweet time, he gets back into the car, where he tells me he'll pay to get the tickets fixed. "I don't need you involved in this. I don't want you screwing this up, too." "What is that supposed to mean?" "Just...shut up." So we go back to my house, where, in the best part of the day, I get to take a three-hour nap while DS waits for the mechanic to call and say his car is finished. I get back home, mercifully sans DS, and try to track down my three sisters, each of whom is supposed to drop off pictures for the surprise video we're making my mom for her sixtieth birthday. Shock shock shock, no one brings so much as a receipt for a pack of bubble gum. To top that off, Mamatoo comes over because she thinks we're having a business meeting (even though the rest of us say there was no meeting scheduled, it's on her calendar and therefore, it is so), so she comes by with Mr. Weird and Francie. I haven't seen either of them in ages, so I'm batted back and forth between them like a ping pong ball, being forced to hear sentences like, "My hamster's still alive." "Mine walks around like this." "I had school today." "I sold Girl Scout cookies." "I'm wearing new shoes." "My hamster eats." "My hamster drinks." Finally I'm like, "You guys are driving me nuts," which, of course, I got admonished for by my mom and sister. "They haven't seen you in forever!" Finally, I escape to work, which is my second favorite part of the day. Easy peasy, made good money, no one bugging me, all is well. I go home. My mom went shopping while I was at work, and I had asked her to pick me up a good top for an interview (yay! Tomorrow! 1:30!). I come home to a Blair-Warner-esque cable knit sweater that gathers at the waist and some disco queen sequined shirt. Either A) she thinks I've applied for a position at Studio 54 right around the time things started to go sour, or B) she doesn't want me to get the job because she psychically intuited my plans, which are to move out as soon as I save up enough money. Either way, I tell her I like them but I'm not going to keep them, which, of course, renders her miffed. Oh, well. And so ends my worst day in recent memory. Here's to hoping that today will be better. 12:37 PM - 11 March 2004 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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