... or how Dasha got screwed by Transit Karma, a fable.
My day in brief:
I left this:
my awesome nieces and nephew
for this:
the other ex, my ex, my ex's new bride & me
and got this:
learning to breathe again on the NJ Turnpike
And now, the fable.
There is a natural order to the universe. Today I violated that order, and the universe threw everything it could in my path to stop my abberent behavior. First I should tell you my disorderly universal offense: I was attempting to attend my ex's wedding to another woman. This goes against all that is rational in the world, except for the lesbian world, where such acts of insanity are routine. Everyone and their uncle told me not to do it, but my ex was insistent, and I'm one of those true-blue friend types, so I set about defying nature.
1. Rental cars suck.
The econobox I rented for this mission had a dead battery this morning. I discovered this after already loading the trunk with her precious wedding gift: smoked nova scotia salmon and whitefish with assorted NYC bagels. With the key stuck in the ignition, the car unresponsive, the trunk locked solid and roadside assistence estimating 90 minutes for a jump-start, I begged my brother-in-law for his car. He surrendered it, minus child seats, and I was off!
2. Mapquest lies.
As one of the locals in the middle of nowhere, PA put it "They changed the Route Numbers but not the signs." And apparently forgot to notify Mapquest and the rest of the driving public. Had the directions been correct, I wouldn't have wasted an hour driving up & down a mountain, thus missing my ex's nuptials by 45 miunutes.
3. Weddings are fun - if you know the people.
I arrive at the fire hall, as cute as can be in the Hawaiian shirt my new girlfriend bought me, trying to recover my composure from the driving ordeal. I greet my ex and her new bride (first time I've ever laid eyes on her) in the midst of blow-up palm trees, rainbow lei's and lots of food I can't eat. My ex's bride's ex hunts me down in the crowd of squealing nurses and introduces herself as "The other ex." We both share a haried-weirded out bonding moment, and then she moves on, having filled in but a few tiny details of the new bride and the couple's history.
Aside from my ex, I know only 4 people at this shindig: My ex's best hometown friend, her best medical school buddy and her parents. No one's very talkative and we are stranded on the tiny Ex island, in the sea of her hard-partying co-workers. I lasted about an hour, having indulged in a piece of wedding cake, which I'm assured contains no dairy (I'm lactose intolerant - Wheee!). My ex, feverish from dancing the Grease Medley Remix, jots down directions back towards Philadelpia which are not quite right (remember the mis-labeled routes?).
4. Best Buy rocks.
Lost, in need of a toilet (there really
was dairy in that cake) and plain old frustrated, I land on the doorstep of a Best Buy. The geek in the PDA section gives me a choice of "quick or Easy" routes. I choose Easy, and am off toward Swarthmore, PA to exchange cars with my brother-in-law and family, who've driven my now-repaired rental car to a friend's picnic. While scenic, the route takes me ominously past Three Mile Island. The nuclear meltdown analogy of the day is not lost on my weary soul.
5. Swarthmore rocks more.
I am never happier to see my sister's smiling face welcoming me to a picturesque cook-out in bucolic suburban PA. BBQ and nice people abound as my adorable nieces and nephew putter around with the neighborhood kids and the dog steals dinner off unsuspecting plates. A perfect antidote to the day's trauma.
6. Not so fast!
The universe is still pissed at me. The emergency brake on my cheap-ass crappy rental car is broken, perpetually stuck in Park. Maybe the forces of good want me to stay in this idyllic setting longer, continue to recover from my ordeal... My host physically wrenches the errant brake into place, and I follow my sister's car to freedom, also known as Rt. 476 North.
7. Psyche out!
So, I'm almost to NJ - home free, right? As Julia Sweeney said: "And G-d said HA!"
All that bucolic scenery in Swarthmore was full of pollen. I pull over on the PA Turnpike with an asthma attack. The universe is really
really into retribution, apparently.
Heart racing from my inhaler, I pull into the first rest stop on the NJ Turnpike, down some cough medicine and wait for the palpitations to subside.
To pass the time and try to avert a complete nervous breakdown, I scribble the day's trials in my journal. Let's see: Heart rate? Almost normal. Bladder? Full. Psyche? Damaged, but not beyond repair.
So, pre-trip potty, and I'm off again.
8. Home sweet hairball.
I walk into my apartment, finally. My cats are not thrilled with my absence for the past 24+ hours. Right on cue, one of them coughs up a hairball at my feet. Welcome home, you're not in charge of your life, human. Got it. Now I sit and type, waiting for my new love to walk in the door and hold me until morning makes this all less awful.
P.S.
To the NJ Turnpike Authority: Playing Philip Glass's Koyanasquatsi in the restrooms is not restful.
To all PA drivers: what's your hurry? Posted Speed Limit= 55, I'm driving 75 in the slow lane and getting tail-gated and passed by Hummers doing 80+!
To the universe: I learned my lesson! Never again for an ex: No good deed goes unpunished.
Car Rental: $350 *REVISED* - they took off $200 for my troubles, so $150
Gas: $100
Tolls: $40
Fish & Bagels that never got delivered: $45
Miles Driven: 500
Divine Retribution: Priceless
-D-
