Crash, Bang, Boom!

Wow. This is going to be a WHOPPER of an entry.

You may be wondering why it’s been about 4 days since I have written anything here. One might assume that the lack of entries means M has stopped being an absolute failure. Believe it or not, this is not the case! M is not only still a failure, she is even more of a failure than any of us could have ever imagined. I believe the best way to do this is a day by day blow of the events that have taken place.

Wednesday –
I consider myself a pretty good driver. I have little bouts of not paying attention – texting while driving – slamming on the brakes every now and then – we’re all human. M though, is possibly the most tragic driver I have ever well, driven with. When I am in the car with her, my hand is clenching the arm rest, my eyes are closed, and my head is turned towards the passenger window. Why? Because I KNOW that we WILL rear end someone and I am, I’m not ashamed to admit, scared for my life.

So it is Wednesday evening. M has left to attend our mutual friend’s hockey game (even though no one actually wants her to). 5 minutes after M leaves the house, I get a phone call: It’s B, “M just rear ended someone, REAL BAD, we just drove by – we aren’t stopping, Z (B’s Bro) doesn’t want to, we’re late for the game.” Wow. If that doesn’t sum up it up right there. Your “friends” see you get in a car accident and they KEEP DRIVING.

Since I live with her, I am of course the first one that is expected to run to her aid. So I text her, “I heard you got in an accident. Let me know if you need a ride. Hope you are ok.” I lied. I actually recall thinking “I hope she has a minor injury – if only to teach her not to follow so goddamn close.”
This is what I get in return, “Thanks, the police are coming and tow truck. My car is toast. Don’t know how I’d pay for it anyway. And the other guy, I don’t have collision. I don’t know what to do.”

To which I respond something like, “It will be fine.” To be honest, I don’t really know what I said but it was probably something as pseudo-sensitive as that.
I then receive, “I gotta wait for the police. Getting it towed home for now. I’ll call my co-worker tomorrow and ask for a ride. Should be ok. My car is a write off the fire fighter said.”

No shit, Sherlock. You LAUNCHED yourself into a Mercedes Benz SUV. Why didn’t you hit a fuckin Corolla? Maybe a 1990 Civic? A Pontiac? I mean, really, absolutely ANYTHING other than a Mercedes Benz S-U-FUCKIN-V.

So the tow truck comes to collect the remains of her shitbox and she asks them to please tow it to our home. Newsflash!!!! We live in a BASEMENT SUITE. We have no property on which to park the wreckage and so they would be dropping it on the street. That is understandably illegal because it would likely sit there for 3 years while the weather attempts to turn it back into EARTH. So the tow truck company refuses to do this, as they would likely get cited for doing so. So they tow it to their own yard, for 25 dollars a day. They then leave her on the side of the road to find her own way home. Instead of say, calling me for a ride, she decides to RUN to the hockey game she has missed due to her stupidity. So the rain is comin’ down hard, she’s wearing leather boots, probably 15 shirts because she is into the “layering” look and she’s got a coffee in her hand. She starts bookin’ it down the street. A good solid jaunt to the arena.

She makes it. Literally one minute left in the game. Coffee running down her arm, soaking wet, her hair even worse than it usually is. She is a mess. Not a hot mess. A wet, sloppy, mess. Everyone by this time had been told that M was in a car accident, a concerned mother comments “Oh is that why she looks so pale?” Z responds, “No, she is always like that.”

She has NO shame. She laments to anyone who will listen about her shitty life and even tells some of the parent’s at the game that she has 97 cents left on her LINE OF CREDIT. This means that M is the proud owner of -4999.03 dollars. Oh but, “could you drop me off at starbucks after the game?” That’s one small coffee she’s gonna be buying.

Thursday -
I offered to drive M to work on Thursday because, well, she crashed her car the night before. Let’s be serious though, we all know that I didn’t offer because I felt bad, I offered because if she loses her job, she can’t pay rent.
Anyway, M has a habit of sleeping in. So it is not uncommon that I wake her up in the morning because she has over slept – again.
I knocked on her door
“Hello?”
“Wake up.”
“Oh shit”
Then I go to the bathroom to brush my teeth and what not so that I am prepared for the day. I exit the bathroom and look at M’s room. If the lights are on – she is up. If the lights are off – she fell back asleep.

Lights off. “ARE YOU UP?”

“I just got up like right now” She said this like she didn’t recall me waking her up. She had no inclination that she remembered me knocking on her door whatsoever. Then she tells me she doesn’t think she will go to work because now she will be “rushed”. Like someone else is rushing her. Uh, no bitch, get the fuck up for work like everyone else.

She spends the day going to the bank to beg on her hands and knees for a loan – which she managed to get – God only knows how. She now has 1500 dollars to spend how she sees fit. Immediately she decides to buy the first car she sees online that is 1500 dollars and close enough that she can ask one of our friends to drive her. Problem is, it is a standard transmission – oh no problem, M learned how to drive stick on YOUTUBE. I think I am going to learn how to do open heart surgery on YouTube tonight. Any takers?

So she went to see this car – which if she did buy, she wouldn’t even be able to drive home. Turns out though, that the car doesn’t actually RUN. Which is sort of a must when buying a vehicle. Unless you are mechanically inclined and intend to make it run. Needless to say, M is not anything-inclined. Well, disaster-inclined, maybe.

Lucky for her, there is another hockey game that evening! She will actually get to see this one, since someone else is going to drive her. B and I arrive at the game to see M, in a foam neck brace. The sight of this was enough to knock me into complete hysterics.

I asked, “…did you go to the doctor?”
“No.”
“You self-prescribed yourself a neck brace?”
“Well it was hurting!!”
“Why didn’t you go to the doctor?”
“Um, how am I supposed to GET THERE?”
“Well how the FUCK did you get to shopper’s fucking drug mart to buy that piece of shit?”
“…”

A group of us sat behind her and did Mr. Roboto whenever she wasn’t looking. I actually think she saw me, but I can never be sure because her eyes never seem to be pointing in the same direction. Her neck brace was on so tight that by the end of the game she looked like Violet Beauregardge from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Her face was blue. Her body was probably swelling into a big round ball that some midgets could roll out of the arena too but I couldn’t stop looking at her face, so I didn’t notice.

Lucky for me, because I live with her, I got to drive her home! I took this opportunity to talk about the car she went to look at. She informed that, “if he dropped the price, she would buy it and get a new engine put in it.” I lost it. I just couldn’t take it anymore. I very sternly informed her that, “if a car has a sagging headliner – ok. If a car has bald tires – ok. In your situation, M, you can afford to over look those minor details but if the car goes as fast as a fucking CARDBOARD BOX, maybe you should KEEP FUCKING LOOKING.”

Weird – not much conversation after that.

Friday –
She went to work. She said it was painful, blah blah blah, I asked her if she wanted to come dancing – she declined. Reeeaaallly? Why? Oh yeah, you can’t dance in a neck brace.

So she ended up heading out to a friend’s house to do something that doesn’t involve a lot of movement, I gather. I see her absence as an opportunity! To put on her ugly shoes and dance like the Goddess Bunny, for B to rub her naked ass on M’s pillows, for us to just generally, be assholes.

Oh, and she also bought a car! The chop shop she gave her wreck to is using parts of it and parts of other people’s mistakes and making her, as she calls it, her own “CUSTOM CAR!!!” Yay. It’s still a standard though. Don’t worry! Youtube.

Saturday –
It is about 6pm and M is still sleeping. This itself, I find revolting. That is beside the point though, because M is missing a very important event! The funeral of her car!

Yes, she made a Facebook event for the funeral of her vehicle. 6pm, Boston Pizza, Saturday. It is going to be one lonely funeral though, as only one other person has confirmed themselves as going. And no, that person is not me.

I actually thought that maybe she asphyxiated to death wearing her neck brace while sleeping but phewf, she just woke up! 6:25pm and she is ready to seize the day! She just now came to me and retold the story of how she bought a car – to be custom made for her. She told me this like it was all brand new information. Like she hadn’t told me the night before. Twice.

I couldn’t control myself. I just pretended that I had never heard the story. It was seriously one of the most bizarre things I have experienced in my entire life. She has no idea she told me that story less than 24 hours ago.
THIS IS MY LIFE.

11:01 pm
Tonight, I saw the most tragic thing I have seen in weeks. I know this is hard to believe, seeing as M’s face was turning blue, just the other day, due to her self-prescribed neck brace but I kid you not, this was even more tragic than that.
M jumping on a trampoline.

M has never been on a trampoline in her entire life. Imagine, if you will, a fish, out of water, on its side, flapping. This is what M looked like on the trampoline. All I could yell was “WHY AREN’T YOU STANDING?” to which she replied, “I can’t.” Who doesn’t know how to JUMP? Wtf.