You Try To Be A Nice Guy And It Gets Shoved Clear Up Your…

AS I was saying, I was trying to be nice.

On the way home, I decided my wife needed flowers. I had performed any manner of jackassery lately and I thought that a long hot day taking the kids to a water/amusement park would make flowers a welcome sight for her when she returned.

Then I thought about how I didn't have any money on me, and I really just wanted to get home.

Then I thought about her and how much she would love to get flowers today and the expression on her face. So I decided to make it happen.

But first things first and I called Carrie to see when she would be home and if there was any spending cash in the house.

"Why?"

"I want to get a haircut."

"Just take some out of the bank."

"OK."

So, I had a plan.

I go to the ATM and take out the money, leaving the car running because it's been acting funny lately: not starting back up after driving it. I drove over to Costco and went in and after getting some cool looking blue flowers I thought she’d like, I paid for them and went out to the car.

It wouldn't start. Shit.

I tried and tried and tried. No luck. When this had happened before, I just let it cool and then it started. That wasn't helping.

I didn't want to call Carrie because she couldn't do anything and if I said I was in Cosco parking lot, the gig would be up.

Damn, what to do. Other than get reeeeeeeeeealy pissed. Check, had that covered.

Finally, I called Carrie just to bitch. She told me to try to get it jumped. I sat there and stewed for almost an hour and finally swallowed my pride and asked the Costco garage if they could help me. They couldn't. (How does a GARAGE not have the ability to help you with a jump right outside their doors? Costco, you lost A LOT of points today. Bastards.)

I was more than a little pissed at this point. They said ask mall security. Mall security? You mean the useless degenerates that, if they COULD help me, would likely charge me for it? I didn’t put a lot of faith in asking them but I was running out of options.

I went in to the mall but couldn't find the office or a guard and was too pissed to ask. So I went out to the car again and got even more mad.

Then it started raining on me. Perfect.

Swallowing a second big helping of my pride, I finally asked someone to help jump me and when we tried, it did NOT work!!! Yet another source of me being pissed off. I tried to calm myself but I was losing this battle.

So I called my friend Sir Phil and guess what... he was out of town on business.

Of course he was.

So his wife said she'd come and I told her to meet me at Starbucks. I walked over there, in the rain, had a coffee, and read some of my book until she showed up. I stewed… stewed… stewed… no one even dare say a fucking word to me. NO ONE!!!

I was a nickel short of exact change. Didn't shock me. Had to pull out another dollar and walk away with even more change.

It took her forever because.... get this...HER car wouldn't start and she had to bring Sir Phil's old antique car he rebuilt. She couldn't figure out how to get it in reverse and she will probably catch Hell from Sir Phil for trying to drive it.

She took me over to my car and.... it started. I felt like an asshole. I sheepishly thanked her for taking her own life in her hands driving the Model-T even if it was really for nothing.

The coup de gras was when I was coming home, the little side street that I take EVERY DAY WITHOUT INCIDENT shut down right in front of me. An ambulance and a fire truck came whizzing by and got up to the intersection and shut it down because someone couldn't figure out the advanced Calculus required to negotiate a three way stop. So I was stuck in a line that was going nowhere.

I. COULD. NOT. BELIEVE. THIS. WAS. HAPPENING. TO. ME.

I pulled a u-turn and came around the other way and when I got to the same intersection, they shut down MY street to let the cars OF THE STREET I WAS JUST ON pass. So I had to wait.

The very real lightning and thunder going on outside did not compare what was going on inside me at this point.

2 hours and 45 minutes after I left work, I rolled in my driveway, teeth at full grit.

The first thing I did was to grab the camera because I thought at least I could get a pic and salvage this situation for a good blog entry. (Glad you bastards are enjoying this!!!)

The camera would not turn on.

Dead batteries.

I threw them away and went to the drawer to get fresh ones and ...

We were clean out.

So I went to my computer mouse and took the ones out of there and put them in the camera.

The camera still wouldn't turn on.

I started yelling at no one in particular but I haven't seen Buster since.

I put the batteries back in the mouse (and they work there, of course) and looked for the charger of the rechargeable batteries that go with the camera.

I found the charger.

No batteries in it.

I dug in the camera case and found the rechargeable batteries but was sure they would be dead (the reason they were in there in the first place was because they ran dry on vacation and I had put new ones in... the ones that just went dead).

I put the batteries in and the damn camera turned on. I didn't know how much juice they had but I didn't dally: I took a quick picture and thus ends the drama.

Enjoy the pic while I try to lower my blood pressure.

You try to be a nice guy….