So I'm having this moment of "what the eff," or "WTF" as you more internizzle-savvy people might say. It was kind of the theme of the night. Recently, I've been getting more comfortable with going out by myself to a show or something, and it actually is kind of awesome. I like not being attached to anybody, or having to look out for anybody else, or like make sure nobody is stuck in the bathroom for too long. Look, I'm a damn good friend, probably one of the best you'll ever encounter, but this has gone on long enough. I need some me time or something. No bathroom time.
So the WTF of the night...I don't know. With my newfound going-places-alone-thing hitting me pretty hard tonight, I somehow made it to three clubs and got away with only paying one cover and for two drinks for the entire night. WTF? And those bands at the High Noon...WTF? Bored. I'm sorry, but they were. So I go to The Brink, which to me looks like a glorified Holiday Inn Lobby and there's a band there playing "Sweet Caroline" and the whole place is jumping and waving their arms in the air like it's the best thing to ever hit town. But I guess it kind of was. Then I get to The Annex at about 1:20, hoping to hear Mr. Gnome, who I'd been so excited about for a month because they remind me of the time I watched Pump Up The Volume for the first time and got all nervous about boys and girls and love and music. And WTF? They'd already played. I was, however, fortunate enough to catch Helliphant playing what I can only assume is their greatest hit, "Bullshit." Yeah. That was eye-opening. But still...the touring band went already? WTF?
Okay. I know this is mostly boring and irrelevant to anything cool. But get ready. Because the biggest WTF moment happened not but minutes ago as I pulled my car into the driveway. There's always gotta be some kind of adventure here on my little one-way street. Whether it's Barefoot Lady out sweeping the sidewalk, or that one Tackle Football Guy smoking outside the Wil-Mar center, or that really intense lady I saw last Friday at 3 am as Stacy dropped me off who was crouching in the grass across the street, not blinking, there's always something exciting happening in my neighborhood. Tonight, though, it was actually scary.
As I pulled into my driveway, something caught my eye. There was this huge thing in the path of my car. As I slowed my car, I realized it was an animal. First instinct: dog. Wait, no. Second guess (and this is the thought process, word for word, by the way): Wolf. No, that's stupid. Coyote. It's a coyote. WAIT, no! It's a gaddamn raccoon! And it's the size of a small horse. For serious. It was a giant. And it didn't even move out of the way. As I sat there, contemplating honking at the monstrous beast in front of me, it looked up at me with a menacing stare and ambled off to the side of the driveway, into the bushes.
"Shit," I thought. "Now it will probably get me somehow." So, like my mother has taught me in the parking garage at my father's office in Chicago, I stamped my feet really loud on the paved driveway to try and scare it away. Moms does that in case of rats. But there's this rustling in the plants, and I'm frozen and terrified and don't know what to do because obviously, at this point, the giant raccoon is retaliating. So I take a deep breath, count to three, and run in the opposite direction to the darker, spookier side of the house to try and get to the front door. Let's keep in mind, now, that this is where the garbage cans for us and the Wil-Mar center stay; I'd say altogether there are 843 cans out there. A raccoon's paradise, if I've ever seen one. As I'm running, and I use the term loosely, the heel of my new shoe gets stuck in some mud that smelled suspiciously of poo and I have to tug my leg out while trying not to drop my purse and keeping watch for that stupid wolf-raccoon. I proceed to break free, run the rest of the way to the front porch, trip up the steps, and drop my keys. And eventually, I get inside. But not without much trauma and drama. All because of a gigantor raccoon.
And so it is at this point that I must say to myself...What The Fuck? What was that?
I just remembered another thing that happened as I was running to the front door. There was a 20 foot ladder propped against the side of the house and I walked under it to get to the front door. As I walked under it, I remembered the superstitious thing about going under a ladder, and even though I don't believe it, I had this moment of paranoia, mostly due to that stupid elephant-sized raccoon, and had to double back under the umbrella and climb around it to get to the door. Jeez...
Bourbon Barrel Series - Rochester Mills - My wife picked up this 4 pack of a limited-release bourbon barrel aged versions of some of the standard beers from Rochester Mills in Auburn Hills, MI. Sh...
7 months ago