Thursday, January 27, 2011


I avoid my blog now. Isn't that sad? But I avoid things that I'm ashamed of... like ugly friends!

Anyway, here's a quicky.

Tonight was yet the third major snowstorm in a month's time in New York City. Tonight also happened to be the night that Boyfriend and I participated in our first Meetup. We happened to go to one where there was drinking AND board games (my two favorite things).

I was twenty minutes late because that's how I roll - always late. By the time I arrived, the gathering was already in full swing with everyone knowing Boyfriend's name. I joined him in a super fun, super engaging game of Taboo while the table next to us played Funglish (a game I've never played).

While my teammates and opponents guessed and laughed, an overweight, sweater-vested man in the table next to us started yelping. Literally yelping. Obviously, everyone stared at him and his three-inch thick, wireframe glasses.

"He spilled on me! He spilled my drink on me!" he tattled to the hostess, gesturing to his high-waisted pants.

"No, no. I'm sure it was an accident. Let me get some napkins," she replied, remaining absurdly calm.

"It was an accident. I'm so sorry.I've got your next drink. I'm SO sorry," a young, white-shirted Asian assured, over and over and over and over again.

"NO! I don't want another drink. He did it on purpose! YOU DID IT ON PURPOSE."

"Jesus, I think he's retarded or something," I whispered to Boyfriend.

After the awkwardness passed and the troublemaker was wiped down (which was much later, long after we had all gotten our slack-jawed staring in), we resumed our game of Taboo. Upon completion, we played Apples to Apples and soon after that, the night started winding now. As I left, I started speaking to the hostess, who was in the middle of a story with some other girls who were there.

"...I hate Facebook because I was in a relationship with a guy for seven years. Literally, from 22 to 29, he was my whole life. So at 30, not being with him my whole life was upside down. Don't get me wrong, he started beating me. Not until later on though! It's like seven years in and he starts beating! You don't expect that!

"Mmm, no, no you don't. Well, everyone has a surprise side."

"Anyway, we broke up. One day, RIGHT AFTER we break up, a girl updates her status with 'I'm so happy to be decorating my house with my own little family'"

"What! She didn't."

"Yes, I couldn't believe it. I sent her an email, though. I wrote to her 'You know, it's really hard to see this when you're newly alone in the world and sitting home during the holidays with NO ONE TO LOVE YOU!!'"

"Seriously. It is. If only people understood. Well, I think it's time for us to head out. Gotta... do other things..."

"Okay, it was great meeting you guys! Can't wait to see you again!"

So out we headed, putting any uncomfortable feelings aside and hailing a Yellow Cab as the snow swirled around us. "Jamaica Estates, please. It's right off the Grand Central."

"No, no I won't go there. Gotta take the LIE to the Grand Central to the Van Wyck. No, no I won't do it."

I looked at our dykey-looking cabbie (who was actually a dude with a gray-haired buzz cut and pierced ears) and assured him that he did not have to get on the Van Wyck and that the Grand Central should be fine, driving wise. I did not bring up the fact that, as a yellow cab, he had no choice but to drive me to my home, since it IS in NYC. I didn't bring that up because I am a kind person.

He bitched 75% of the way about the weather (which was treacherous) and puttered along the Grand Central while other cars flew by. In my semi-drunken state, I was convincing myself that he was doing it on purpose to drive up the fare. I later re-convinced myself that he wasn't doing this, when I came back to my senses, but then convinced myself again that he was. Ultimately, I am undecided.

As I debated whether to tip him 20 or 25%, perhaps even 30% because of the weather, Boyfriend directed him to our home. Our road is right off the GC service road and Boyfriend told him to turn down it.

"No. NO! I'm not going down there. Just get out here. I'm not going down that road."

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! Just drive down there."

"No! He understands!" "Oh REALLY? You understand?" "Well, no, no I'm just saying that, yes, the road looks bad but people have been driving down it all day." "I'm not going down it! You guys get out here." "If we get out here, I'm NOT paying for this." "Just get out here! He (gesturing to BF) understands." "You HAVE to drive us! It's the rules! I'll call 311!" "You can do whatever you want!" "FINE! [Boyfriend], let's go. Just get the fuck out."

I ripped open the door and started walking down the street, the wind and snow blowing in our faces. "Fucking dickbag cabbie," I said to Boyfriend... just as the cabbie turned down the road and came back for us.

"Really? You are not going to pay me??"


"FINE, GET IN THE CAR!" "Just get in the car, Bexxx."

He drove us down the road to our final destination, only two blocks away. He didn't get stuck or even slip at all. About half the time we were with him, I was tempted to take the wheel myself and show him what was up.

But I didn't, because I am a kind and loving person.

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