Madam President, Queen of Snark (kellinator) wrote,
Madam President, Queen of Snark
kellinator

  • Mood:

latest in the "you won't fucking believe this" department

Last night Michael's parents very obviously didn't want us to go out, but I'd had the week from hell and needed a Margarita Friday, so we ventured out. Michael drove because on top of all the other shit with my car, I discovered that somebody had opened their car door into my passenger side and buckled the plates so severely that the passenger door will only open a third of the way, so I slithered across the seat and Michael drove.

We were going down South Cobb Drive when Michael started muttering about the car... we lost power. I was grateful Michael was driving, because he managed to gracefully coast into a parking lot. I would have just panicked. When I turn the key, the ignition makes that trying-to-turn-over sound, but then engine won't start.

I swore a lot.

Michael's dad came to get us and the three of us managed to push the car to the side. No use trying to tow it in this weather. I kicked myself a lot for not joining AAA in the last week. :( The car was driving like a dream this week; I still can't believe this happened...

Michael's dad was going to take us to get Michael's car, but Michael told him to drop me off at Mexico Lindo because "she needs a drink." I bitched at Michael for making me sound like an alcoholic in front of his dad, but leopard_print and 10dimensions said he actually made me look good in comparison because if I had been in the car with them instead I would have whiiiiined nonstop.

I think when I walked in I ranted for five minutes solid about this on top of the week I'd had. Everyone agreed it was an emergency situation and alcohol was needed, stat. copycatjsh put out a search party for Oscar, our favorite waiter. When he arrived, 10dimensions told him we needed an IV drip.

Friends help. Friends help a lot.

Now we're iced in with Michael's parents. I'm just not thinking about any of this shit and am about to find some food, then demand cuddles.

(Oh, Michael is standing here while I'm writing this chanting "no drama for meeeeee!!" and doing something he calls the "I Don't Have a LiveJournal Dance.")
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