Last night Mr. Big did not answer his phone, normally this is not any occasion for my ire, but last night I felt restless, like the night was out there waiting for me and I just couldn't tell it no. I had been planning to check out a few local spots to play host to Girls Night Out for some of me and the other girls who work in my local salt mine, a friend text me to let me know about some "great band" that was playing at the local watering hole called the "Graduate" upon walking into this family restaurant/bar combo you realize that yes almost everyone in the place just graduated, I felt like Mrs. Robinson and I am 26. There were the vestiges of the dinner crowd even at 11pm, there was no band to be found, apparently I was about two hours too late to enjoy what I'm sure would have been a very rousing time according to the barkeep who with usual generation Xer non-zeal informed me had preceded my arrival. I decided since I was there I should make the best of it, alone and in a strange land I did what any intrepid fabulous woman would do, I ordered a cosmo. After an entirely too long wait, the bartender greeted me with a pina colda glass infected with a maraschino cherry and ice, that's when I realized I wasn't in Kansas anymore.
I was surrounded by out of order video game machines, truly kitschy decor and couples who looked as if they met at a Sadie Hawkins dance, and even those who I knew were quite my senior did not seem to act it. There was a woman on the end of the bar who I can only assume was impersonating Kat Von D, the unsober years. This is direct quote "I have worked at that strip club for 10 years and have driven home drunk almost every night, that's like 10,000 time I haven't been pulled over." I had such a hard time not correcting her math, but I digress. I am not one to judge and I do have to add to this woman's credit, she did have a designated driver that night. I was just getting ready to leave when a woman with spiky short hair walked in with a shirt that read SL,UT (Salt Lake, Utah) I thought it was quite clever, you can see the twit pic in our new widget below the headline. She was a bartender and another aspiring writer,and a very amiable lady. I hope she sends me some of her writing, I'd love to have her as a contributor to my act of vanity aka this blog as I believe we are currently at 3 readers including me. One of the Graduate's best qualities is that for some reason or another it attracts real people, not the "i'm wearing (insert designer here) worship me" type. It attracts working people, families and couples who are comfortable enough with each other to share a meal without the fancy trimmings. So if you're tired of the overbearing club scene and in for a dose of real time, down home, watching a guy sing along to the juke box using his beer bottle as a mic, this is the perfect place. It's just what I needed last night (except for the cosmo) next time I'll stick to the 10 different beers on tap. I had not had much to drink, less than half my ill fated cosmo and was feeling noshy, I decided to stop at Jack in the box for a late night craving for moz sticks, extra marinara thank you very much. I got home without much fanfare, and easily settled into bed and watched old sex in the city episodes until I fell asleep.
Everything this morning was normal, breakfast, dishes, light reading, gossip column on yahoo. Then my parental units walked out the door to do errands and promptly called for me to come outside, I thought something was wrong with my mom and I immediately felt the panic jump into my throat. I rushed outside, everyone seemed unharmed. "Did you get into an accident last night?" My mother asked me suspiciously. "No, why?" as I looked where she was looking, my entire back windshield was broken, a very large hole where my perfectly good windshield had been. " I just went to Jack and the box and came home after the bar, nothing was wrong." I said still not understanding how this could happen, my imagination conjuring up miscreants playing baseball with my only vehicle and mode of transportation.
My hear sunk, I had just bought this car from a friend of a friend out right in cash, it was mine, after being without a car for a whole year. Then my dad found the beer bottle on our lawn. Some inconsiderate jerk had thrown out his beer bottle from the driver window and hit the back of my car, of all the cars on our street it had to hit mine. I would never wish ill on anyone, but if anyone has a comeuppance it's the man three doors down who NEVER walks his dog and is mean to kids on Halloween. I felt so violated, so miserable and under insured my car insurance only covered liability damages and now the it won't be repaired until next weekend which mean an entire week with no car. I wonder if once the bottle wielding culprit sobered up this morning if he realized all the unforeseen consequences of his actions, like me not being able to take my mother to her doctors appointments, or me having to get up two hours early every morning to go to work, or how now I won't be able to pay Visa this month, because that $500 has been reallocated to deal with his mistake.
It got me thinking, how often do we stop and assess what we are doing, how many time have you not left a tip, left a hotel room a little too messy or done some other bourgeoisie irritating thing we all do? All those little things we do in life must have domino effects on those people who depend on the most and think about the least. Has the press of hard time grown our hearts jaded to the plight of others? Have we become a nation of people who just don't give a damn about our fellow man?