Sooner or Later

Today, I snapped.

M worked a graveyard shift at the gas station last night and that means that she got off work at 6am and she was to go into her other job for an 8am start. As we all know, this is essentially impossible. So, M got home at 6 or so, I am assuming, and lied down on her bed fully clothed – she then, fell asleep.

I wake up and see that her door is closed and her light is off. So I knock on her door and tell her that she has to get up for work. She doesn’t really respond as she is completely incoherent and essentially unconscious. So I knock again. And again. Nothing. I must note that I was not angry when I was waking her up. In fact, I was being very chipper!

Truthfully, the main reason that I wanted her to go to work was because if she did, I knew that there was no way she would be able to come out with us tonight and I sure as hell didn’t want to hang around with M on a Friday night. So with that said, I had to try my damndest to get this girl out of bed, and into work.

I go to her room where I swing the door open and flick on the lights, “WAKEY, WAKEY!” I am greeted with a groan and I go back to my room to continue getting ready for the day.

Ten minutes lapse – It is 7:45 now and if she left right now, she would make it to work only a few minutes late. So, from my room, I call out to her, “M! Wake up!” groan. “GET THE FUCK OUT OF BED.” Groan. “GO TO FUCKING WORK, WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?” Gradually, my comments and tone went from slightly annoyed to full on infuriation.

SS: Isn’t the whole point of taking these two jobs and actually going to them is to prove yourself to everyone? Everyone said you couldn’t do it and you claimed you would prove us all wrong.
M: I am paying it back.
SS: YEAH, with the fucking loan itself!!! Well that is going to run out if you don’t go to WORK. GO TO YOUR FUCKING JOB!
Eventually, after yelling at her from afar, I decide to go into her actual room, where the door was still open and the light was still on. I revert back to a calm voice to start.
SS: M. Get out of bed and go to work.
M: There is no point. I am going to be late.

*INFURIATION*

SS: 5 minutes late is a lot better than 8 fucking hours late!
M: grunt, groan
SS: How can you show your fucking face at work day after day? Are you not ashamed? I couldn’t do it. I would be so ashamed after missing 5 fucking days. It sickens me and I am fucking tired of being silent about it.

I slammed her door shut (light still on) and went on with my day. This is the 5th day that she has missed since last Monday. The light in her room stayed on until at least 1pm. When I got home at about 4:30, the light was off. She slept for 7 hours with the lights on.

B came over and went directly into M’s room to wake her up, as always. She informed M that it was 6pm on Friday night and she didn’t believe her! She actually has no comprehension of the day or time. She also didn’t call work to let them know that she wouldn’t be going in today. I am sure they are used to that by now though.

She didn’t actually get up until 6:30. She came out of her room and made some sort of foul smelling food in the microwave and then disappeared into her dark cavern to eat it. She didn’t say a word to B or me. I guess she’s a little upset at the words exchanged earlier? Well, I was only telling the truth!

Information Age

Last night, M came home with a Blackberry Curve. B and I both have one, so naturally, she needs one. This, of course, absolutely enrages me. She is just throwing her extra loan money away on phones and clothes and acne cream. HELLO!? That money is supposed to be spent on paying the loan back since you can’t afford to make those payments! It seems odd that she has missed 4 days of work in the last 7 but can still buy a brand new smart phone. She is such a wise girl.

She also bought the phone because I had been gloating about how great Blackberry Messenger is and how B and I talk on it pretty much constantly throughout the day. I think she feels that if she also had it, we would talk to her more. Ain’t gonna happen! B doesn’t even have her on her list and I only have her because I was the one that was forced to show her how to use it.

In other news, when I woke up, M’s room was dark and the door was closed. This is a tell-tale sign that she is still snoozing away, well past her wake up time. So, I wake her up, as usual.

I knock.

M: I know! I’m up! I am going to be late!

So, I assume she means late by a few moments – she is up, she just needs to get ready. Then, fifteen minutes later, as I am leaving the house, I notice that her light is still not on. She hasn’t actually gotten out of bed yet. And so…

I knock.

SS: Um, You’re not getting up!
M: Yeah, I am gonna go in an hour late today…”

JESUS CHRIST!!! Why is she such a disaster?

Guantanamo

Surprise surprise!!! M did not wake up today! I guess she endured her graveyard shift and then came home at 6am with the intention of having a 1 hour nap until she had to go to her day job. I tried 3 times to wake her up and only once did she even make a sound, a low grunt. Man, she was dead asleep.

I came home around 1pm for lunch and she was still asleep! Another day of work missed. When I got home at 5pm, she still wasn’t awake. B woke her up and asked why she didn’t go in even though the answer is pretty obvious – she is an idiot. She didn’t even call them to inform them that she wasn’t coming in. How is she still employed?

I actually watched a documentary called Taxi to the Darkside the other night and in the film, they talk about various interrogation and torture techniques. One of the techniques happens to be sleep deprivation. After 48 sleepless hours, the person is incoherent and mumbling. 72 hours and the person is completely useless. M is subjecting herself to torture techniques used in Guantanamo Bay.

Apprehended

You know… every day, I think that M’s ridiculousness has reached its peak and every day it seems like I am proven wrong. This morning, I found out that M was arrested last night. Through the grapevine, I heard that she was taken to the police station because someone “anonymously” called in and told the police that she was driving her old shitbox car around with no insurance (which she was). Now, according to M’s Facebook, she is convinced that one of her friends did it. Without thinking too highly of myself, I have to assume that she thinks it is either me, B or S:

This morning her facebook said:
“M is wondering who the shitrat coward is who 'anonymously' called the cops on me... thanks a lot, fucker. Friends are just enemies that haven't struck yet...

Someone told the cops that my gold Golf isn't properly insured (the plate switch from the red one) and said they saw me driving it today, which I didn't, but anyway. It had to have been someone I know because that’s the only way they would know its not insured, because it has plates on it. So one of my lovely friends is a big bowl of Bitch Flakes...... I have a pretty good idea of who.

I got a warning after talking for like an hour but I could have lost my license and got a 2500 fine, etc etc. Plus it's actually a crime so I could have been charged/arrested. So I'm pretty pissed. The cop told me specifically that someone called in anonymously to tell them about the Golf.

And people wonder why I'm such a cold hearted bitch myself... well it's because you can't trust anyone!”


It doesn’t help my case that I haven’t spoken to her in 3 days and this isn’t just a simple, “oh I haven’t been around much!” It’s actually a full-on avoidance. Truthfully, it wasn’t me who phoned the fuzz on her but I will admit that I kind of wish it was! I didn’t even think of calling the popo! I also don’t believe it was B or S, mostly because they wouldn’t hide it from me, and also because if they had done it, I would have been there for sure. I can’t believe she was APPREHENDED. I mean, what the hell is next? She has a long lost twin sister and she murdered someone but has fled so the police are now going to arrest M for the murder and she will go to prison? Or maybe M will win the god damn lottery but lose the ticket on her way to collect the money. Would that surprise anyone? Seriously? SHITSTORM.

Update:
M was not actually arrested. She was not put in cuffs and taken to the station. This saddens me so. When she got home, I had to talk to her in order to find out all the juicy details about last night. This means I had to be nice to her :(

And so I found out that she came home around 11pm and she was getting ready for bed when she heard her phone ringing. She didn’t answer (it was a blocked call anyway) because she was brushing her teeth. She listened to the voicemail when she was done and it turns out it was the police. They were outside waiting by her shitbox, threatening to tow it if she doesn’t call them back in the next ten minutes.

She apparently went outside to talk to them and explained her way through it. See, the shitbox is not registered to M. It is registered to the previous owner still because M claims there are some details which prevent her from registering it. The car, essentially, looks stolen. It has the license plates of the car she rammed into that SUV on it and no insurance. The popo were pissed! She was given an official warning that will go on her record and was told that if she drove it or didn’t get it moved off of the street, they would tow it and fine her.

On the job-front, tonight is M’s first graveyard shift! Goooooood luck!

Purge Yourself!

I haven’t spoken to M in 3 days. Friday, Saturday, and now Sunday. I am getting happier with each passing day! Its funny how purging yourself of a miserable force can do so much for your demeanor.

I am still looking for places to rent but it hasn’t gone well so far. I just have to stick it out! The fact that I don’t have a clear deadline makes the task a little easier. My moving dates are very flexible as of right now so I don’t have to settle! I don’t want to end up on a trailer park washing my panties in a load with Bubba’s briefs.

I'm Officially Depressed

Today was probably the most depressing day I have had in a long while. The ridiculousness that is my room mate generally causes a lot of laughter and disbelief but every once in awhile, it causes anger and sadness. I’m not depressed because she is a failure for life, nor am I upset that we have drifted a great deal as friends. I am depressed because her failure means my potential failure.

We share half the rent, people. If M can’t produce, it would leave quite the burden on me. I don’t want to pay her half of the rent – I don’t even LIKE her. Her never buying toilet paper, her not rinsing her dishes when she puts them in the sink, her never emptying the garbage, her never vacuuming or cleaning anything EVER, these things eat away at me but as long as her half of the rent is paid, I can usually deal with it.

So why today? Why is this the day I choose to let this shit get me down? Well…
M did not get up for work again. As usual, I knock on her door to let her know she is late – only this time, I’m not exactly shitting rainbows at the fact that she has slept in – AGAIN.

SS: You should get up.
M: What?
SS: You should get up.
M: Why? (She said this in the bitchiest, “Wtf” tone)
SS: Because you are late for work – again.
M: I haven’t decided if I am going.
SS: WELL, YOU JUST TOOK ON AN 8000 DOLLAR LOAN SO I THINK YOU SHOULD BE WORKING.

Silence.

10 minutes later, as I left the house, I just had to ask –
SS: Did you get fired yesterday?
M: No.
SS: Did you quit?
M: No.

And there you have it! Not a single answer as to why she is missing her third day of work this week. I actually didn’t see her at all today. I spoke to her but didn’t physically see her even though we were at home, at the same time, multiple times today. Her lack of work attendance coinciding with the additional 8 grand (minimum) that she has tacked onto her ever-growing debt train has pretty much confirmed that I MUST find a new place to live. Without her. Without anyone.

Sigh

M did not go to work today. Why? She didn’t feel like it. Man, I’d never leave my bed if I didn’t go into work when I didn’t feel like it. She also removed all photos of S from her room. I guess that would have taken a big chunk of her day to do.

Get the Details Right

M got a second job!!! Oh, don’t get too excited yet though. As I have come to expect from M, she did not get a sensible evening shift job where she would make tips or be off at a reasonable time. No, M got a job working graveyards at a gas station. 10pm until 6am. This might be fine on say, a Friday or Saturday night. Unfortunately, that is not when M will be working. She will be working during the week, which means that she will get up at 6am to go to work for 8am and then she will get home from work at 5pm and go to work at 10pm then get off work at 6am and go to work for 8am and finally get off work at 5pm only to collapse when she gets home. That is 36 hours without any sleep (or very little at the least). This task would be difficult for a regular human being so I can’t even fathom how M expects to do this.

In other news, S (the love of her life) has unfriended her on Facebook. Ohhh, burn! That’s gonna leave a mark. She sent him an e-mail to express her hurt:

“So by unfriending me on facebook that means you don't want to be my friend in 'real life' either? All because of a stupid car? It's not the ideal solution for me, I know, but I thought about it and whatever, I've made my decision. I appreciate that my friends, including you, told me their opinions but in all honesty, I am stubborn and once I've made up my mind, it usually sticks.

Anyway, I'm not regretting the decision to buy the car. Could it be a mistake to do this? Possibly, as you all said. I know that. I've made more than a few bad decisions in recent memory. And if it does all go horribly wrong, well then everyone can say "I told you so" and I'll say "you were right". But it won't go wrong; I am going to make those payments, pay it off early ideally, and all is well. Yeah I'm more in debt but a shitbox that constantly needs repairs would keep me there, too. I'm choosing the road not taken this time with an anti-shitbox...

Plus no one's even asked me in person about my loan details or repayment term or the fact that a second job only 2 nights a week will pay for the car payment AND my insurance... I happen to have got a 3 year term instead of 5, so less interest, etc etc... doesn't matter. Some say I won't be able to pay my other bills, like rent, which is bullshit because I have never been late or missed rent and never will. It's no one's business anyway but they can at least get the details right for the gossip.

You probably won't reply to this message anyway, if you really want me out of your life that badly. Which hurts, by the way. And I don't think it's all about this car thing. You've been strange to me for a few weeks... maybe you've just been busy but we haven't hung out at all in like a month. I got the feeling you were avoiding me. So whatever I have done to make you angry at me, please tell me TO MY FACE instead of just ignoring me and unfriending me on fuckin' Facebook, of all places... Go ahead and yell at me or punch me in the face if you have to and tell me why you're mad instead of just shutting me out.

You should know there was a time when I thought you were my only real friend in the whole world. Guess you don't really care after all. Which is too bad, because I think I've been a pretty good friend to you. Call me when you remember that.

- M”


There are a few things in M’s e-mail that I would like to note.

1. “But it won't go wrong; I am going to make those payments, pay it off early ideally, and all is well.” - This sounds promising! At least she is upbeat about it!

2. Even SHE calls her old car a Shitbox! See, I’m not being mean.

3. Unfriending on facebook is a little dramatic, I agree, but you have to understand that her status is constantly being updated with little tidbits about her dire and depressing financial situation. It gets tiring!

4. Doing the math, M’s loan will end up costing her anywhere between 15,000 and 18,000 dollars. The loan was only for 8,000! Great idea.

5. No, she has never been late on rent. That doesn’t mean there was never a close call though! Even when she didn’t have an additional 15 grand to pay back to the bank, she would still spend the night before rent was due on the phone, in tears, begging family and friends for help paying this months rent (but just until she gets her paycheque!).

In all honesty, there is a chance that she can do this. I am not in a mad panic to move out because I know she has at least 2 grand left on her loan, so she will be able to pay the next few months rent at the least. Eventually though, maybe not this month, or this year, but eventually, she will fall HARD. The debt is piling up somethin’ fierce and it shows no signs of slowing.

PLEASE STAY BACK

In true M style, she took the morning off work in order to go pay the guy for her car. Naturally, the half day turned into a full day off work when she decided that she just couldn’t wait to drive her new car! Problem is, the car is a standard and the only experience M has driving standard is by watching those helpful videos on YouTube. So, sometime this morning, there was a girl, on a hill, with her four-ways on. She kept rolling back, down down down until she pulled the emergency break and sat there. Luckily, some STRANGER got out of his own car, he was dubbed “Hot Paul”, and helped her out of the ridiculous situation. They actually ended up going for lunch together! Wow, love born out of idiocy.

B went down after work to drive the car home for her, since driving it herself didn’t go so well. She noticed that the door lock was punched in, the alignment was brutally off, the clutch was going and the window was stuck down. OH WELL!

Then the time came. B had to help M learn how to drive 5-speed. I got several texts from B informing me of how terrible the experience was and that she has never been with someone who drives so badly. It was actually so bad that a sign was needed. Yes. A giant, pink sign that clearly states, “LEARNING TO DRIVE STANDARD – PLEASE STAY BACK.”



Despite my desire not to speak to M or see her new car, I couldn’t starve myself of the joy of seeing her fail. So the girls swung around to pick me up and off we go! REV REV REV. Wow. I don’t know how to drive standard transmission either, ok? I would probably be terrible at it too, but that’s why I wouldn’t go balls deep and buy a car that I didn’t know how to drive. We stalled at 90% of the stops and stalled on 100% of the hills. Actually, we didn’t just stall on the hills – we peeled out. Those brand new tires are laying on the streets of L-Town right now. I don’t even know HOW to screech my tires, let alone wake the neighbours up with a full on burn out.

Then they drop me off, and the plan is for M to drop B off at home and then drive back to her Grandparent’s house where she was spending the last few days. That would have gone reasonably well, if M hadn’t forgotten essentially everything that B had taught her for the last 5 hours.

B informed me that as soon as I got out of the car, M went blank. Turning left, M stalls. The light goes green – she stalls. The light goes green – she stalls. She, and everyone behind her, missed 3 sets of lights. B had to change places with her because she was physically unable to get the car through the intersection. So they pull into a side street and go over the basics, again. And then… disaster.
Another left turn. M gets half way through the intersection and stalls. B calmly walks her through what to do to get going again and she stalls. And she stalls. And she lurches forward, and she stalls. And she cries. And she waves her arms. And she stalls and she cries and she cries and she cries. Meanwhile, outside the car, M is blocking 4 lanes of traffic and she is blocking them for a total of 6 sets of lights. Back inside the car, B has gone from calm to enraged. She is yelling at M to get out of the car so that she can get them through the intersection but M is frozen! It took what must have felt like an eternity for her to finally be forced out of the car.

They arrive at B’s house and she flat out asks M, “What are we going to do? You can’t physically drive this car to work tomorrow. What are you going to do when I’m not there to rescue you from the middle of an intersection?” So they drive all the way back to our house and trade cars. M failed. She had to drive her shitbox old car because she actually CAN’T drive her new one. She failed not because of mechanics, or insurance, or anything else that might prevent her from driving that car, she failed due to her own inability. It’s funny how I feel so good but M feels so shitty right now. Weird how that works out!

Miraculously she drove the car to our house a mere hour after she dropped B off. B is pissed that suddenly she’s able to drive it with no problem but they just spent 10 minutes in the middle of an intersection. Absurd.

Live Dangerously

Today was insane.

As per our usual weekend routine, B and I met for a delicious breakfast. We generally ATTEMPT (forced by B) to invite M but she is never up by the usual 11am time so, naturally, we manage to enjoy our morning without her. This breakfast was a little different than the rest though. If the following wasn’t an indication of how our entire day was going to unfold, I don’t know what it is. In plain view, mid-breakfast, a child started vomiting. The poor kid was bent over in the middle of the restaurant, barfing red, syrupy waffle puke.

Then, M called. She finally woke up, much too late for our breakfast, but she let us know that she wouldn’t have been able to come anyway because she was going to look at a car to buy. A car? Oh yes, the third one you’ve owned this month? Oh lovely. I hung up the phone and B and I spent the next ten minutes fuming about how M can’t afford a car, shouldn’t take the loan, how ridiculous she is, etc etc. Then we got thinking – we have nothing to do today! Wouldn’t it be hilarious to accompany M on this journey?

I called M back and asked if she would like us to come along. She happily agreed that we should, since she doesn’t know how to drive a standard car (yet she is buying one) and B does. Then we find out the car is about 45 minutes away and I get a little lazy and tell her that I don’t want to drive. This means, we are going in M’s beast of a car, with no insurance. Live dangerously.

So, we meet M at her grandparent’s house where she had been staying for the last few days. As we sat there waiting, M pulled up and immediately drove into the garage door. A bang that neither her, or her mother, heard. B and I let her know when she got out of the car that she hit the garage door, leaving a pretty substantial dent. This was of little concern as she would “fix it later.” Right.

B calls shotgun on the drive out to the big city. M, without a map, assures us that she knows exactly where she is going and then off we go. We have 1 hour to get to a place that should take us 45 minutes on a good day so we should be ok, right? Gimme a break.

I fear that that ride shaved a few years off of my life expectancy for two reasons: stress and exhaust fumes. I had to decide between wind-blown hair and passing out from exhaust inhalation because there was no way to sit in the backseat with the window up. We did have a fun way of passing the time on the ride there though! Every time that M stepped on the gas, we turned around to watch the mushroom cloud of blue smoke billow out of the ass end of the car. Hiroshima! Oh joyous day. M is single handedly depleting our precious ozone.

The Jetta that we are going to see is located at Main and East 2nd. This is relevant because we came to East 12th, and then East 16th, East 22nd, and M kept plugging along like she knew exactly where she was going. I think the conversation in the car went something like this:

SS/Me: The streets are going up, we have to turn around.
M: No, we are looking for something something St.
B: I think we are going the wrong way.
SS: We are definitely going the wrong way.
M: No, this street crosses with something something St.
SS: Ok, but either way, even if we find something something St. won’t we still need to go all the way back to East 2nd?

Silence.

B and I msg back and forth on our phones – “we are going the wrong fucking way, why the fuck won’t she turn around, omg this is a disaster” etc.

Finally, we come to East 44th and B and I essentially yell in unison, “TURN THE FUCK AROUND, M!”

42 streets in the wrong direction and 15 minutes late for our appointment and we are heading back! Then we finally come to Main. This means that two streets to the left, or two streets to the right, is where we need to be. Of course, we end up going right, which is the wrong way we realize very quickly. M doesn’t seem to mind though as she just continues passing street after street and not turning around. TURN AROUND, OH MY FUCKING GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! She finally chooses a road that I guess meets her standards and turns down it. Now, normally one would then pull into a parking lot or drive way or something to retrace their steps and go back up the way they came. NOPE. Not today, folks! M continues to follow the street without heading back to Main – she is actually not heading in the direction of our destination at all. Eventually I ask why we aren’t taking one of the streets that would lead us onto Main and she, well… I don’t think she said anything. She just continued onto this elaborate overpass which led us in the opposite direction of Main and East 2nd.

We asked a man in a jeep how to get to the place. He pointed behind him and said, “back that way” with a confused look on his face. And so we turned around successfully and suddenly we are at Main and East 2nd. Hallelujah. We need to go left or right but we aren’t sure which one. M is on the phone with the seller of the car right now and he is bitching her out because we are approximately an hour late and we’ve told him we are “just around the corner” about 4 times. In our defense, we actually WERE just around the corner, but M decided to go around every other fuckin’ corner on the way there. He tells us we have ONE minute to get there or he is leaving. So M doesn’t go left, and she doesn’t go right, she goes straight. M goes the only option that is 100% certainly the wrong choice. That’s right, M passes East 2nd by like it was a tranny hooker. OH. MY. GOD. What is WRONG with her?

So we backtrack… and finally, we get there. The guy is young, hot, and super pissed off. He is so unimpressed that he doesn’t even take out his headphones the entire time M was talking to him about the car. Both B and I were too embarrassed to go for the test drive so M was stuck with him alone. I’m surprised he didn’t launch it off a cliff. He did stop for gas though – 7 dollars worth.

She pretty much asked no questions – just informed him that she will buy the car tomorrow. I told her beforehand that we shouldn’t even bother going to view the car because no matter what the condition of it, she will buy it. She bought a car that starts with a screw driver! She will buy ANYTHING.

We’re sitting in the shitbox about to head home (I get the front seat this time) and I turn to M and say, “How do you plan on getting the car home tomorrow?”
M: Well, I will drive it.
SS: Yes, but someone needs to drive the other car.
M: Well then, I will take public transit.
SS: You do realize that public transit will take you approximately 2 hours to get here, right?
B: and I really don’t think you should learn how to drive standard in downtown Vancouver. I will come out after work and pick it up with you.

Wow, B. Big mistake.

Phewf. I’m tired now.

In Other News

The other day, M told me that she applied for a loan via CitiBank online and whoa! She was approved! She was approved for up to 10,000 dollars! Just what she needs – more debt. She told me that she wasn’t going to use it though, since the interest rate is a whopping 39%!! I thought this was illegal, personally. She scoffed at the insane interest rate and said something like, “yeah, right! I’m not going to do that!”

That brings us to today. M informed me that she plans on taking the loan. Surprise surprise. Sometimes I wonder why I ever give this girl the benefit of the doubt – it was only a few days ago that I thought to myself, “no one in their right mind would take out a loan with 39% interest.” Well, I was correct, no one in their RIGHT mind would. She won’t be using all of the money though. She only intends to take out $8,000. Let’s calculate: this means that she will be paying Citibank 18,000 dollars over the course of her 5 years of repayment. Does this strike anyone else as completely RIDICULOUS? No? No one?

M has been driving without insurance since she got her “new” car. The car isn’t even registered in her name, actually. If she was stopped, she could get a large fine (thousands of dollars), a suspended license, and potentially be arrested. You would think that someone in that position would, maybe, not drive. Not M! She’s cruising all over town. Helping her mom (that’s another disaster for another day) move, driving to work, driving here, driving there, driving EVERYWHERE! Absurd.

In other news, M has Anemia. This means that her own red blood cells are attacking her white blood cells. Even her blood is saying STOP LIVING to her. God, maybe she should just give up? She is on ridiculous antibiotics and claims she can’t eat certain foods at certain times. She has burdened me with a big list of her do’s and don’ts on our fridge. B had been telling her she had Anemia for months now due to her so-pale-she’s-blue complexion and 12-15 hour sleeps. The doctor also prescribed super strength acne cream – no joke.

We Need You to Leave

Her car is still running, believe it or not! She went to Aircare on Saturday to get her car tested. If she doesn’t pass, then she can’t insure the car. Her mechanics have assured her that they will make it pass no matter what!

So she is in the line up with about one car in front of her before it is her turn, when a man comes out of the testing bay and makes his way towards her car. She rolls down her window and the man says to her, “Could you please leave?”

“I’m sorry, what?”
“We need you to leave.”
“Why??”
“Your car is blowing so much blue smoke that we won’t be able to test it.”
“…Can’t you just test it so that I know what my emissions are?”
“No, we need you to leave.” And he hands her a pamphlet on what to do if your car is blowing blue smoke.

They wouldn’t even take her money and test it knowing full well it would fail! I mean, that is EMBARRASSING. What the hell? I don’t think I’d be able to wake up in the morning if this was my life, man.

Also, a few weekends ago we were at B’s place enjoying a social get together and we ended up watching gross videos on YouTube. Births, pimple popping, pus draining, etc. Let it be known that M has somewhat of an acne problem and she has an aversion to popping her zits. This is a personal choice, I suppose, but most people have found that if you don’t pop a zit, it stays there for a very long time as your body then has to REOBSORB the pus back into your face. So most people pop them. Not M! She leaves them alone – days and days they stay there. It looks like if she flexed her cheek they’d all pop-pop like bubble wrap (bubble wrap filled with cream cheese!). BUT don’t worry – this is going somewhere. The day after we watched all those youtube videos of people pimple popping (sounds like a sweet movie – purple people eaters, people pimple poppers) M came out the next day with a FRESH PUS-LESS FACE!!! I guess she used the videos as inspiration.

Unfortunately, all the zits are back now. In full force. Maybe it’s like if you shave, it comes back twice as thick? Who knows.

Hot Wired

So she now has her car. She called me Wednesday night at about 5pm –

“Hey, I can’t talk much right now because I am at the gas station and you aren’t supposed to be on your cell phone but I got my new car. It doesn’t start with a key, I have to sort of hot wire it, but anyway, the steering wheel won’t move, do you know a trick to make it move?”

“…wiggle it?”

“Yeah I tried that, it won’t move, just thought you might know a trick.”

“…One question. Why the hell did you pick up your car if it wasn’t actually ready – if you need to HOT WIRE it to make it go?”

“It is ready. This is how it is going to be.”

“…Why don’t you call the mechanics and ask them to come help you, they are only like a 3 minute drive away?”

“They already showed me how so I didn’t want to bug them again.”

“But… your car won’t go... and you bought it ten minutes ago. Good luck.”

And so she arrived home safe and sound after figuring it out somehow. Then she went for a drive (she invited me along but I declined). I got a text from her later that evening telling me that she has so much to tell me about her new car and all the things that have been going wrong. I went to bed and I haven’t asked since – don’t plan to. Sorry if you wanted to hear it because you won’t, seeing as I can’t bear to listen.

Also, today, M bought a new tooth brush. I am putting this in here because she seems to go months and months without buying a new one. I want to document how long this one will last. It has a lot of rubber bits on it so I have a feeling it’s going to be there for a long while.

And before I go, can I just clarify that she spent 1,500 dollars on a car that she has to start with a screw driver?

Doritos

You guessed it! The car wasn’t ready. She is also pretty upset because she actually got to go SEE the car tonight and it’s um… ugly. It also has no stereo and the backseat is all wet. She is super stoked about the SUNROOF though! Woo.

I took her to the grocery store with me as she only had a bag of frozen mixed vegetables left. She came armed with no list of what she needed, as usual. She was also “depressed” (who wouldn’t be?) and therefore wouldn’t even touch an item on the shelf by herself. “Do you need soup? Sidekicks? Noodles? Pizza pops? Microwave dinners?” I walked her through everything she usually buys and she reluctantly picked out a few things. The only thing M actually picked up without me coaxing her to do so was a bag of Doritos. Mmm, she’s eatin’ healthy tonight.

Pop the Cork! It's Champagne!

Surprise surprise! No car for M, at least not today. I came home to her sulking in her room, eager to inform me of today’s tragedies.

The “custom” golf that she was supposed to get got towed away today as the previous owner had a lien on it. I mean, seriously. Could I even make this up? It is just one disaster after another. So the mechanic that arranged the deal in the first place has promised her a different golf. The only issue is that this one is in much worse condition than the original one she was supposed to get. And, it’s champagne coloured. That is where I draw the line. Hell, it can barely run, but if it is CHAMPAGNE, cheque please.

This car needs EVERYTHING. They are completely stripping the car she catapulted into the Benz and putting it everything into the champagne-shell of a car. Good news though, folks – this thing is an automatic! Actually, it’s only partly good news because I’m sure I would get a lot of laughs out of her driving a standard into the ground. I wonder how many times she’d stall it going to work every day? 13?

Anyway, apparently she will get the car tomorrow. I don’t understand how they can do that much work in one day but we shall see.

My Truck is Full

Tonight a large group of our friends (I will guess about 20 people) went to a restaurant. I went and of course, M did as well. I informed her that I intended on leaving at 9:30, so if she wishes to get a ride with me, she better be ready to leave then.

9 rolls around and she decides to order food. I texted S, “I am leaving soon so have fun driving M home.” He replies, “Absolutely not.” I then let her know that I was heading out and she says, “Well, I am sure I can get a ride, if not, I will take a cab.”

As I’m leaving, a few people ask me how she is getting home. I told them that someone is going to have to drive her because she just ordered food! Various people responded with, “No way!” “My truck is full!” “Haha, nooooo.”

How depressing is that? Among approx. 20 of your friends, not even one wants to drive you home?

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.