My Saturday started out pretty normal. I slept way later than any human being ever should and then loafed in my bed on Facebook. My boyfriend had taken the commuter rail earlier that day to Boston to see a Red Sox game. His cousin invited him and only had one extra ticket and that's part of the reason why I was left to wallow alone in my misery all day.
When my roommate came home, we decided to run to Hannaford so I could pick up ingredients for trail mix and rent a movie from Redbox. Unfortunately, that Redbox was being a bitch and didn't have the movie we wanted to see. Instead of admitting defeat, we drove to the Stop & Shop in the next town over. Again we were disappointed.
As we were reaching our third destination (another Stop & Shop) I got a text from my boyfriend saying "OMG i may miss the train the redline was closed in a couple spots so i had to take a shuttle bus it took an extra 25 minutes wat time is the train at south st" (obviously he is against punctuation marks). So I sat outside in the car while my roommate ran in the store (only to be rejected by Redbox for the third time) so I could get in touch with my boyfriend.
After calling him about 22 times, I got another text "there is no way to get to south station the red line is down". I called him another 13 times and repeatedly texted him "WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?" The text I got back read, "I really hate boston". Like that helped.
I finally got in touch with him and found out that he had in fact made it to South Station (which is where he needed to be to catch the train back to our town). As I was talking to him at 9:30ish he asked me whether the train back was at 9:40 or 9:50 and I had to inform him that the train had left at 9:20 and the next wasn't until 11:20.
Now the events I have detailed so far don't seem that drastic. However at this point I had been sitting in Stop & Shop's parking lot (parked illegally in the fire lane as a matter of fact) and was supremely pissed off. And sick. And resigned to the fact that I had to drive into Boston at 9:30 at night.
So we set off driving, weaving from highway to highway, being careful to follow my GPS exactly (and not the GPS that tried to kill me, I put that bitch out of commission months ago). If you don't live in or near Boston you might not realize that if you make one wrong turn, you end up in Oklahoma. Fucking Oklahoma.
To my surprise we made it to South Station; surprise because I had a sneaking suspicion that South Station could only be reached by train or bus but never by car. Luckily I found street parking on the corner of where my boyfriend said he would be. And unluckily I didn't have the room or the chance to properly parallel park, so my ass was sticking out onto a relatively busy street. And there were buses. And they wanted me dead.
But during all this agitation and anxiety, where was my boyfriend? Not on the fucking corner where he said he would be. My phone call to him went like this:
ME: Where the fuck are you?
RYAN: I'm inside, I didn't expect you so soon, I'll be right out.
ME: Good.
10 minutes later...
ME: Where the FUCK are you?!?! My ass is sticking out and the bus drivers want to kill me!
RYAN: I was just in line at McDonald's, I'll be right out!
ME: HAVE YOU LOST YOUR FUCKING MIND?!
RYAN: No. I'll be right out.
5 minutes later...
ME: Is this some kind of sick joke?!
RYAN: What's your problem? I'm on my way out!
ME: I've been sitting here waiting for you for like an hour!!!
RYAN: Relax I'll be there in 2 minutes.
So my roommate sat there laughing and I sat there seething and scanning the doors where he should have been coming out of. Let me add that this entire time I was frantically checking my rear view mirror for any buses, taxi's or angry cars that wanted to kill me and probably mutilate my body for parking like I did. Then Ryan knocked on the back passenger window sufficiently scaring the shit out of me and my roommate.
Then we went home, took Sudafed and went to our next door neighbor's party and got way too drunk and dominated at beer pong and got drenched in beer and went home to cry hysterically in the shower. And by "we" I mean "me". But that's for another post.
