And You Thought You Had A Bad Day
From the Archives... August 2003
Dear Friends:
I know I am probably, no scratch that, I am DEFINITELY the worst person at keeping in touch with friends and family – so this is a huge step for me.
I have had an eventful week (a mild understatement). Perhaps to satiate the exhibitionist in me – or to tease out your closet voyeur I wrote this story.
I sent it to a couple of friends and they urged me to share it with more people. Let me know what you think.
Now, I know you will ask, did these things really happen. Who knows, maybe they did, maybe not. Did I dream these events up? I don't know... sometimes truth is stranger than fiction.
Just so you know, the events chronicled here notwithstanding, I am in great form.
-SD
***
Friday morning. 10:00 AM
I have just dragged myself into the office, eyes bloodshot, and a hangover raging. Why has my headache not succumbed to the two (or was it three) Advil’s that I took an hour and a half ago? I need food.
Damn, there has to be an easier way to do this… How difficult can it be to break up with your girlfriend and to get back into the single life? I thought it was like riding a bike. I seem to take the more challenging route it seems.
To make a long story short, I am rather embarrassed today - the firefighters woke me up this morning at about 2:00 AM. Cooking when drunk is not a good idea...
THE BREAKUP
Ann and I broke up on Wednesday. She was mad because I hung out with a woman from my tennis clinic on Tuesday night. (I thought that is what tennis clinics are for – to meet people.) Anyway, Jenny and I go out for a drink at about 8:30 to this local Irish pub. On the way down, I had called Ann and she joined us for a while but had to go get her legs waxed. Now, drinking makes me hungry – and I began to crave the ceviche at Jackson Hole, a great restaurant a few doors down. When we get there, we coincidentally run into Liz, another woman from our clinic, sitting at the bar with her visiting friend Pat.
I was in heaven – the company of three beautiful women is what a boy like me lives for! Liz and Pat were about to leave, but I bought a great bottle of wine and asked them to stay for one drink – which they did. I ordered my ceviche. We wrapped up at about 10:30 and I walked Jenny to her house.
I went back downtown and met up with Ann. We hung out, but I could tell that she was miffed. As she drove us home, she railed about my moving to Jackson Hole, about my walking Jenny home etc. I did not feel like dealing with it so I simply said, “I am going to bed.”
As I was asleep, Ann was stewing so she went through my wallet and found that evenings credit card slip. Seeing how much I spent, (I told you it was a great bottle) she lost it and started yelling to me “You bought her dinner” – not true. I looked up, not really interested in engaging in any conversation at 3:00 AM. I decided that I would not say anything and rolled over and resumed my snooze. Unfortunately, women in general, and Ann specifically, do not like the silent treatment. Somehow, she decided that dumping a large glass of cold water on my face as I slept would get a response!
That did get a reaction out of me – I did not so much get up, as explode out of bed and I communicated! I asked her (probably a little loudly) to leave my house and go home. She did not leave. I got out of bed and moved to the other bedroom, locked the door and went back to sleep. In the morning, she apologized, but I still did not want to talk with her so I said nothing.
I spent much of Wednesday thinking long and hard about our relationship. I decided that neither of us was very happy. Later in the day, I sent her an email that began with: “I want to stop our relationship. It is not working, and it is not fun anymore. Indeed at times, it is downright frightening.” I then proceeded (with bullet points) to list out what I felt we needed to do to uncouple.
We talked for a good while on Thursday morning. She was mad that I broke up via email. Just so all you guys out there know, I do not recommend doing it that way.
(Do all women go through their men’s pockets? Someone said to me “Ann clearly has trust issues with you.” I wonder why, but then I have been accused of being an irrepressible flirt.)
THE FIRE
Thursday night began rather slowly. My biking buddy Bill came by to see the house – I have only recently moved in. We grilled steaks, sautéed baby spinach, and opened a bottle of Casa Lapostolle merlot. I had a glass (one only!) Bill recently separated from his wife, we chatted about the interesting prospects of being “new bachelors.” I guess he is not wasting time because he left at 9:00 to go pick up a friend at the airport – long distance booty call I guess. He had a picture of her on his Palm PDA - wearing a bikini no less. Lucky bastard.
By 9:30 I was upstairs in bed when another friend, let’s call him Sam called. He was in town and wanted to get a bite to eat. I met him out at Jackson Hole. 2 bottles of wine and 2 beers later he decided to go home. I was having a ball by then so I hung out. I do remember having this sophomoric banter with an English rugby player. He just didn’t see the humor when I said unflattering things about his mother!
As I was walking home, I went to another spot where I was chatting with these two gorgeous Mexican women. One was moving back to Puebla after two years here. I tried to convince her to stay in the US but alas she declined…
Once home, I began eating an apple then decided that I was really hungry. I pulled a steak out of the fridge and began frying it on a pan. I then went upstairs and lay on the bed, turned on the television and waited for the steak to cook.
I have no idea how the firefighters got in, or even who called them. Every single one of my 5 smoke detectors was blaring but I did not hear a thing. Luckily, I was semi decent - shorts on. As they pulled me out of the smoke filled house, I saw what all my neighbors looking at me out of their windows. (And I have just moved in – there goes the neighborhood!)
There were 2 or 3 big fire trucks, an ambulance and 2 cop cars out there. Damn, I hope it does not make the police blotter.
They asked me if I had been drinking - well what did they think? The ambulance crew wanted to take me to the hospital to be checked for “smoke inhalation.” I declined and signed the waiver. What I really needed was to get them out of there so that I could crawl back sheepishly to bed.
When I went back in all the windows were open, the screen in my bedroom was removed...guess they were thinking of throwing me out if the fire started. The pan with the very, very well done steaks (on one side) was on the kitchen floor. In my hungry state, I took a couple of bites off the non-charred side - it sucked.
Then I heard the cat. (Ann is away at a wedding in Michigan, I was supposed to go too, but that would not make much sense would it... I offered to hang out with her cat while she was away.) Anyway, the cat made an eerie meow that I had never heard before. I looked up through the smoky haze and saw her crouched above the kitchen cabinets. She was terrified. I picked her up and carried her upstairs to bed.
This morning I realized that the firefighters opened my back door and all my downstairs windows, and I had happily left them that way. The apple with two bites taken out of it was on my dresser. How do I now get rid of the smoke smell in my house?
This is too much excitement for a 30-something single guy. I mean, heck, I am not a 19-year-old frat boy. I emailed a friend earlier about this and he wrote back “Holy crap! So, you almost died in a fire! Didn't you hear the smoke alarms? Dude. You need to take it easy for a while. Are you still coming into the City? Should I put the fire dept. on alert?” He may have a point. Is this life spinning out of control?
Dear Friends:
I know I am probably, no scratch that, I am DEFINITELY the worst person at keeping in touch with friends and family – so this is a huge step for me.
I have had an eventful week (a mild understatement). Perhaps to satiate the exhibitionist in me – or to tease out your closet voyeur I wrote this story.
I sent it to a couple of friends and they urged me to share it with more people. Let me know what you think.
Now, I know you will ask, did these things really happen. Who knows, maybe they did, maybe not. Did I dream these events up? I don't know... sometimes truth is stranger than fiction.
Just so you know, the events chronicled here notwithstanding, I am in great form.
-SD
***
Friday morning. 10:00 AM
I have just dragged myself into the office, eyes bloodshot, and a hangover raging. Why has my headache not succumbed to the two (or was it three) Advil’s that I took an hour and a half ago? I need food.
Damn, there has to be an easier way to do this… How difficult can it be to break up with your girlfriend and to get back into the single life? I thought it was like riding a bike. I seem to take the more challenging route it seems.
To make a long story short, I am rather embarrassed today - the firefighters woke me up this morning at about 2:00 AM. Cooking when drunk is not a good idea...
THE BREAKUP
Ann and I broke up on Wednesday. She was mad because I hung out with a woman from my tennis clinic on Tuesday night. (I thought that is what tennis clinics are for – to meet people.) Anyway, Jenny and I go out for a drink at about 8:30 to this local Irish pub. On the way down, I had called Ann and she joined us for a while but had to go get her legs waxed. Now, drinking makes me hungry – and I began to crave the ceviche at Jackson Hole, a great restaurant a few doors down. When we get there, we coincidentally run into Liz, another woman from our clinic, sitting at the bar with her visiting friend Pat.
I was in heaven – the company of three beautiful women is what a boy like me lives for! Liz and Pat were about to leave, but I bought a great bottle of wine and asked them to stay for one drink – which they did. I ordered my ceviche. We wrapped up at about 10:30 and I walked Jenny to her house.
I went back downtown and met up with Ann. We hung out, but I could tell that she was miffed. As she drove us home, she railed about my moving to Jackson Hole, about my walking Jenny home etc. I did not feel like dealing with it so I simply said, “I am going to bed.”
As I was asleep, Ann was stewing so she went through my wallet and found that evenings credit card slip. Seeing how much I spent, (I told you it was a great bottle) she lost it and started yelling to me “You bought her dinner” – not true. I looked up, not really interested in engaging in any conversation at 3:00 AM. I decided that I would not say anything and rolled over and resumed my snooze. Unfortunately, women in general, and Ann specifically, do not like the silent treatment. Somehow, she decided that dumping a large glass of cold water on my face as I slept would get a response!
That did get a reaction out of me – I did not so much get up, as explode out of bed and I communicated! I asked her (probably a little loudly) to leave my house and go home. She did not leave. I got out of bed and moved to the other bedroom, locked the door and went back to sleep. In the morning, she apologized, but I still did not want to talk with her so I said nothing.
I spent much of Wednesday thinking long and hard about our relationship. I decided that neither of us was very happy. Later in the day, I sent her an email that began with: “I want to stop our relationship. It is not working, and it is not fun anymore. Indeed at times, it is downright frightening.” I then proceeded (with bullet points) to list out what I felt we needed to do to uncouple.
We talked for a good while on Thursday morning. She was mad that I broke up via email. Just so all you guys out there know, I do not recommend doing it that way.
(Do all women go through their men’s pockets? Someone said to me “Ann clearly has trust issues with you.” I wonder why, but then I have been accused of being an irrepressible flirt.)
THE FIRE
Thursday night began rather slowly. My biking buddy Bill came by to see the house – I have only recently moved in. We grilled steaks, sautéed baby spinach, and opened a bottle of Casa Lapostolle merlot. I had a glass (one only!) Bill recently separated from his wife, we chatted about the interesting prospects of being “new bachelors.” I guess he is not wasting time because he left at 9:00 to go pick up a friend at the airport – long distance booty call I guess. He had a picture of her on his Palm PDA - wearing a bikini no less. Lucky bastard.
By 9:30 I was upstairs in bed when another friend, let’s call him Sam called. He was in town and wanted to get a bite to eat. I met him out at Jackson Hole. 2 bottles of wine and 2 beers later he decided to go home. I was having a ball by then so I hung out. I do remember having this sophomoric banter with an English rugby player. He just didn’t see the humor when I said unflattering things about his mother!
As I was walking home, I went to another spot where I was chatting with these two gorgeous Mexican women. One was moving back to Puebla after two years here. I tried to convince her to stay in the US but alas she declined…
Once home, I began eating an apple then decided that I was really hungry. I pulled a steak out of the fridge and began frying it on a pan. I then went upstairs and lay on the bed, turned on the television and waited for the steak to cook.
I have no idea how the firefighters got in, or even who called them. Every single one of my 5 smoke detectors was blaring but I did not hear a thing. Luckily, I was semi decent - shorts on. As they pulled me out of the smoke filled house, I saw what all my neighbors looking at me out of their windows. (And I have just moved in – there goes the neighborhood!)
There were 2 or 3 big fire trucks, an ambulance and 2 cop cars out there. Damn, I hope it does not make the police blotter.
They asked me if I had been drinking - well what did they think? The ambulance crew wanted to take me to the hospital to be checked for “smoke inhalation.” I declined and signed the waiver. What I really needed was to get them out of there so that I could crawl back sheepishly to bed.
When I went back in all the windows were open, the screen in my bedroom was removed...guess they were thinking of throwing me out if the fire started. The pan with the very, very well done steaks (on one side) was on the kitchen floor. In my hungry state, I took a couple of bites off the non-charred side - it sucked.
Then I heard the cat. (Ann is away at a wedding in Michigan, I was supposed to go too, but that would not make much sense would it... I offered to hang out with her cat while she was away.) Anyway, the cat made an eerie meow that I had never heard before. I looked up through the smoky haze and saw her crouched above the kitchen cabinets. She was terrified. I picked her up and carried her upstairs to bed.
This morning I realized that the firefighters opened my back door and all my downstairs windows, and I had happily left them that way. The apple with two bites taken out of it was on my dresser. How do I now get rid of the smoke smell in my house?
This is too much excitement for a 30-something single guy. I mean, heck, I am not a 19-year-old frat boy. I emailed a friend earlier about this and he wrote back “Holy crap! So, you almost died in a fire! Didn't you hear the smoke alarms? Dude. You need to take it easy for a while. Are you still coming into the City? Should I put the fire dept. on alert?” He may have a point. Is this life spinning out of control?
posted by SagaciousDemon at 8:48 PM
