Friday, April 28, 2006

FG and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Soooo yesterday I went to the Haight to say goodbye to my friend Alex/Sydney. The Haight being relatively close to the Marina, I felt pretty safe giving myself an hour to navigate MUNI to work. I mean, I could have walked there in under an hour. And walk is exactly what I should have done. Through a you-really-can't-make-this-stuff-up series of miscommunications and MUNI bizarro-ness that can only be described as MUNI, I ended up in Daly freaking City before making it to work 45 minutes late.


I woke up at 4:45 this morning STILL traumatized over the whole thing. Seriously. I realize that it was just one of those freak things, but damn. It's days like today when I could really use a dog to remind me of the more important things in life. May I never, ever ride a 43 again in my live long life. EVER. I haven't wanted to cry out of frustration like that in a long, long time. [I am so clearly not unflappable.]

Can I get a do over, please?

Really though, there must have just been something in the air last night. Perhaps it's the approach of Cinco de Mayo or two weeks without rain [deluges, at least], but there was a party here when I got home. Seems to have gone on well into the early hours.

Charming was listening to performances of drunken quasi-karaoke. Not so charming was whomever came stumbling into my room at 5am.

Downright mind boggling was the dream that I had last night. I was waiting tables at Red Robin again and we had two entirely separate floors for seating. I was the only server on and people kept going upstairs to sit and suddenly I had 75 tables. [How I knew the exact number, I have no idea. Dream logic.] But then, as I start working through all of the tables, it's clear that they've all been waited on already. Relief.

Next, I'm on my way home, standing on the steps of a church, waiting for my partner in crime because we were going to remove the small fortune in cash we had stashed in the basement. I look out across the city to the bay where a supercell is forming. As my PIC approaches, the supercell turns on its side and slowly forms a face and arms. The face begins talking and I'm trying to get my PIC to look at it and reassure me that I'm not going nuts when it reaches down and grabs a different church and flings across the city.

I start getting nervous and enter the church to organize the removal of the money from the basement. As soon as I close the gate behind me, I hear something hit it forcefully. I turn around and pressed up against it is a tiny grey young woman. She seems somewhat deranged and I help her inside [like you do] where it becomes clear that she's really just not right. She informs me that she's the god who was in the cloud and that she's taking over the church. I think this is just fine, so long as I can get my money out, but am wary of telling her this. Trying to explain this to my PIC yeilds a less than enthusiastic response, especially as now the deranged god is inside the church and we are outside of it.

Things start to get a little weird when the DG starts spouting off beautiful prose about the poetically painful and undying nature of love and separation, intimating a deep angst about a long lost lover. It's absolutely arresting in its poignant beauty. Of course, this means that the PIC and I are off to find this lover in hopes of easing the DG's pain and the less than altruistic goal of recovering our money.

This takes us to Las Vegas, which is just down the street apparently, as I keep running back to the church to update the now despondent DG. All of this running back and forth and the discussions with the DDG take place in Ridley Scott-like weather. Crisis arises and it appears that the DDG will soon die if we can't locate her long lost love.

After much drama, involving the church full of other grey and despondent characters who do a herky jerk thing that seems like a cross between Thriller and Chicago, we do find the LLL and she rewards us by turning the church into a swank casino/restaurant/hotel. Which is nice, but it means somehow that we'll never get the money we buried.

At first, I'm a bit upset about this and as my PIC is trying to get a job as a waiter, I try and get a job as a bartender, already trying to work out crazy plans to dig under the joint and get our dough. The management, however, laughs at our applications and points out that we *own* the place as though we were pulling a great big joke on them. The DDG and her LLL are the main performers for the headlining show and wink knowingly at us before finishing in a send off that would make Xanadu beam with pride.

I think I may need a vacation.

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