Fans of Bitter-C rejoice! For today I cater to you. I was going to try to keep this to myself, but events have transpired that have made it necessary for me to release this bitter pill with the hopes that will be cathartic.
It all started a couple of weeks ago. My sister in law was going to graduate from college, and it was happening on a Sunday. I knew that I would probably have Saturday off, so I was happy. I would be able to make the 4 hour drive, see my friends that live in the same city (I lived there for 3 1/2 years) see the graduation, then head back home in time to pack for the big road trip to see my son graduate.
However, in the planning stages, I found out that the in-laws would be going down Friday, and not coming back until the Monday after the graduation. This fucked up my plans. See, me and the spouse live with the in-laws, now a matter of convenience rather than necessity, and with them gone, we had to stay behind to take care of the veritable zoo that resides in the house. The goddamn parrot is the reason I am sitting in a coffee shop this morning typing a blog instead of packing for the trip I am leaving on tomorrow. Screaming bastard, like living in old jungle movie. Anyway, now the plan is to get up at 5 on Sunday, leave by 6, drive 4 hours, graduation at 11, lunch following, then drive the four hours back to let the damn dogs out. No time for C to see his friends, even for a minute, let alone go out on the lake for a few hours and share a few beers. Because the in-laws want to spend the whole goddamn weekend away, spending money they don’t have on hotels and food, never mind the fact that they had just seen their daughter 4 days before, it just isn’t in their nature to think of any one but themselves. This was the first time-release bitter pill I had to choke down with week old coffee.
Now we get to the morning of the day trip, I wake up with the alarm at 5, giving myself an hour to get ready. My mistake was only allowing an hour for the perpetually tardy spouse to get ready. She was still up, having not gone to bed. A normal, rational person would conclude that all goddamn night would be sufficient time to prepare to go to your only sisters college graduation, a milestone in her life, but no. She had sat out on the back porch all goddamn night reading a book and smoking all the cigarettes she can get her fingers on. I go into the bathroom and do the preliminary beard trim prior to showering, then go out on the porch and tell her that she doesnt have time to be reading. She claims she is waiting on me to shower. What-fucking-ever. So, I go shower, then go out and tell her I am out of the shower, then go back into the bathroom and shave my head and face. (I already had a shaved head, I didnt just do it for the hell of it) Then, on the way to the bedroom to get dressed, I go outside and tell her that I am done in the bathroom, and she says OK, and lights another goddamn cigarette.
She got in the shower at the exact time I had planned on walking out the door. An hour later, after I had shown a certain degree of anger, we walk out the door. I am doing the frustrated, in a rush, panic thing that I always do when I am late for anything, and speeding on the highway, something I very very rarely do. 5 over the limit, that’s it. As we are cruising up the highway, she asks “Are we going to stop for breakfast?” Stop for Breakfast? The GPS says that we will arrive exactly 3 minutes late for the graduation, and she wants to stop for breakfast? Decision time, get a quick drive thru meal or listen to her bitch for 4 hours about being hungry. Sonic it is. And of course, they take forever. Now the GPS says we will be 23 minutes late for the graduation. This is about 45 minutes late in my mind. I have to stop at a rest area on the way since I drank two cups of coffee that she took the time to make instead of getting ready. She has to go too, and takes her goddamn book. Pull out of the rest area, GPS score now at 45 minutes late. Drive for about an hour, get a call from A asking how we are doing. After that, she actually asks “Are we going to make it?”
“No chance in hell,” I answer. “Not even if you tromp on the gas?” Sigh. “There is no way in hell I can make up 45 minutes in 100 miles.” Technically, there is, but I am not going to risk mine and others lives because she cant get her ass moving and be on time. Drive, drive drive… damn traffic… I hate downtown… I heard you the first time, talking GPS… parking… parking… lot full…. fuck…. ten fucking dollars to park here? Parked, camera ready to go, mother-in-laws camcorder ready to go, she has been waiting for it. Call A, we’re sitting here, but its standing room only.
She is sitting in the car, putting on her accessories, while I stand in the hot Houston sun, bald head gleaming as I pace in frustration. Walk across the street, this door is closed, follow the crowd. This is is locked, and this one, and this one. A calls, he is propping open a door for us. Spouse sits down on a bench, walking 2 block is causing her back to spasm. Maybe you could have walked two fucking blocks if you has started physical therapy in November, like you were supposed to. Get to the door, send A ahead with the camcorder for the cow-in-law, and sloooowwwwly make our way to the section. I can hear the talks going on, I can see it on TV’s around the concourse. Spouse announces she needs to use the fucking bathroom. Cant she hear? We’re missing it! “Hold my purse.” So now I am the guy pacing outside the women’s bathroom in a baseball stadium holding a purse while the action is on the field. Find a spot, don’t wanna miss it. An opening! I see it, up on the rail, I can see, I have a clear shot for photo’s. Finally. And I didn’t miss the important part, W getting her diploma.
“There are spots over there.” I hear. “What?” “There are spots to sit over there.” “How about we stay here and watch your sister graduate?” I growl. “I am just looking for a place to sit down, no need to get that way.” “Fine.” We walk towards where she wants to sit, only stopping twice on the way to lean against a pole before announcing that she wants a drink. Thank you concessions people for knowing that a graduation would b a good time to be open and sell nasty assed hot dogs and four dollar cokes. We get to the section she wants to sit in and she only makes two people stand up so she can get to her place to sit. I can see that the line of graduates going to the stage to receive their diploma goes right to the bottom of the section we are in and makes a u-turn. I take the camera and go down in time to see W in her cap and gown. She looks up and sees me, and smiles. I try to rapidly take a couple of pictures and mouth the words “I am so proud of you.” This was the only good part of my entire day. They announce her name and I whistle, then go back up to where the sister was sitting. I had heard you yelling when her sisters name was announced, so I know she was paying attention for that at least, but she had her PSP out. Why the hell did she even come. She made me late, and didnt watch any of it. We pretty much leave after that, since there was a luncheon and she hadnt bought her sister a card yet. And I had not opted to stop for gas and was very very low. I didnt want to sit in traffic with less than a gallon in the tank. We go get fuel, and stop at a CVS where she proceeds to take 20 minutes to pick out cards, and stuffed graduation bear, which now had to have a gift bag, and tissue. The call comes in from A, they are at the restaurant. “Everybody is there,” I tell her. “Waiting on us AGAIN!” I dont scream. Pay for it, GPS programmed and we are on the way. Now we are parked, call A to verify we are in the right place, NOW she starts signing cards and putting shit in the gift bag. Had 15 minutes on the fucking way, but NO, it has to be done while I sit and fume. I think it is a hobby for her now.
Go in the restaurant, she gives her gift to her sister, and I talk with A for a few minutes until the spouse gets out of the way so I can give W the card I got her TWO DAYS BEFORE, LIKE A RESPONSIBLE PERSON DOES, along with the letter I wrote congratulating her. The letter I wrote made W tear up, which is important later. Everybody elses food is arriving, and she is finally ready to order. This should tell you how late we were for this thing. I am talking with A, on my right, when I hear what the spouse is saying. She is blathering on with the unauthorized biography of us to two people she just now met. That reminds me, A, when you read this, please convey to your sister and her fiance my deepest apologies for subjecting them to her inanity.
Lunch is over, head to A and W’s place (just realized after all these years that their initials together are a restaurant that makes really good root beer) and she now has to climb three flights of stairs. By now, I give an internal chuckle about it. Not feeling really magnanimous at this point. Spend some time there, then I announce we need to leave before I am too tired to drive. On a side note, seeing the cow-in-law sitting on the couch in A&W’s place, not surrounded by filth, was a surreal vision. Like seeing a placid gazelle calmly eating your living room carpet. You know in your mind that it could happen, but actually seeing it breaks your brain. We stop at the convenience store next door for drinks, and of course she has to look around the whole goddamn place, not just getting a coke, but candies and other shit.
Finally on the road, she wants to talk to try and stay awake. Somehow, we get on the subject of Larry the Cable guy, and she is talking about the commercial he is in with Dan Marino for NutraSystem. Irony just gave up and decided to put in the overtime for this conversation, because the spouse told me how impressed she was with Larry’s weight loss, and that she was seriously considering going on that program to lose all the weight she has gained in the past few years. Then she said something, I dont really know what it was because I was laughing too hard inside, but it started like this: “My problem is,” take a huge bite from a king size Baby Ruth bar, and I have no idea what she said with her mouth full after that. The only other significant part of her ramblings is wanting to know why her sister got teary eyed at someone elses card and not hers. I told her it was my letter that did it, and then had to explain what was in it. I felt like lying, telling her that the letter was about how I would support her sister and our unborn child, but she needed to find a way to curb the morning sickness long enough to kill off the rest of her family so had a place to live, but I told the truth in the hopes that it would shut her up. Get a clue, spouse, you want your sister to be moved by the things you do, do the little things, like SHOWING UP ON TIME FOR HER COLLEGE GRADUATION!
Finally, after protesting that she didnt want to sleep, she slept. Thank God. Unfortunately, she woke back up before we got home. First thing she does is grab her Coke, takes the lid off, then falls back asleep while slowly tipping the Coke bottle over. I grab and and wake her up, she says sorry, then does it again. “Drink it or put the lid back on, I admonish her. 20 minutes go by, and she is awake. I had prevented her from smoking until I thought she had sufficient time to wake up. After 20 minutes, I thought she had. We were also only about 10 minutes from the house. She lights up, and I am trying to keep my eye on her, but there is that whole watching the road thing. I look over, she is asleep, and no cigarette in her hand. I YELL her name, and yell the question “Where is your cigarette?” It was in her lap. She grabs at it and eventually gets it out the window, all the while say “goddamn…” as a prelude to blame something before eventually hitting on “Stupid…. me” I was so shocked that she actually found her way down the path to recognize her own fault, that I only stopped speaking to her instead of yelling about the second mark on my car seat she has placed there with a cigarette since I bought it in October.
Rant over. But stay tuned. I leave on an even longer road trip tomorrow. sigh.
