Monday, June 12, 2017

up until this week it had been so long since i had been kicked in the dick that i forgot what it felt like. i know in fourth grade kayla kuhlman gave me a completely undeserved nut-punting in doc martens and at the time i thought, “wow, i hope that never fucking happens again.” nobody that knows me now will be shocked to hear i was a potty-mouthed fourth grader. but as time has passed and cultural norms have forced the people around me to normally behave like adults, at least when it comes to physical aggression, i have mostly forgot the boundless pain that shit can bring.

i can say it feels a little bit like yesterday when i found out via one of those baiting banner advertisements on an imdb page that there was set to be a white men can’t jump remake. i love 90’s movies. it wasn’t the fact of the remake that hurt. and it wasn’t the fact that after googling this event i found out i was months late to the party of knowing it is in the works. i’m used to missing the memos. the pain came when i found out that blake griffin might be starring in the movie. snore-fest.

i can say it feels a little like tuesday night when drunk mike (who’s not here to defend himself, so don’t speak ill of him) thought it would be a really good idea to try to give his number to hot girl across the bar. now, to be fair, said hot girl gave real vibes a la sway wayland. for those of you not as hip with the 90’s movie thing (and 2000 is close enough), sway is angelina jolie from gone in 60 seconds. tattoos and blonde dreads and sensation seeking. hot girl at the bar gave drunk mike the impression, without speaking any words to him, that if he asked her what was more fun between having sex and stealing cars she would reply without hesitation that the answer was having sex while stealing cars. these are real characteristic appeals to drunk mike. the attempt at passing on his number played out different than he had seen it in his mind’s eye. this should come as a surprise to nobody who has ever tried anything at a bar around midnight. sway wasn’t super stoked about this pass. in fact, she was really super unstoked. she flipped out. she acted like he tried to punt her dog. come on. give a guy a break. there’s no “right” way to try to meet girls for a male mid-20’s. drunk mike felt very quickly like billy madison — “a simple wrong would have done just fine.”

but what REALLY feels like a kick in the dick this week is being fined $300 for not checking my emails. this punishment was thrown in my face at very poor timing. the morning after the sway incident. waking up still with a buzz and having to be at work by 11 is no problem and widely practiced. i made a nice breakfast. i showered. i brushed the whiskey smell away and then gave it a nice covering of coffee. i walked out the door at 10:45 which in normal circumstances would have put me at work just a little bit late which is a lot fine with me. but then the parking lot was empty of parked cars and i felt real ashton kutcher-y. my car was not where i left it. there was a crew resurfacing the lot. WELL SHIT. i went to the office — “hey i’m pretty sure you guys towed my car.” — “yeah, here’s the information for the towing company.” — “would it have killed you to leave a paper notification at my door?” — “we sent an email notifying everyone that cars left in the lot this morning would be towed.” i check my emails sporadically and without joy and without attention and i get it it’s 2017 and i gotta cut that shit out. but come on.

now, as a general rule i try to never swear at people who have jobs that i refuse to ever do. a gas station attendant doesn’t need my gripe. i have pity for the poor dial tone who works in an apartment rental office but does his best to look like he’s an indie rocker at heart and this desk he’s at is absolutely temporary. i don’t NEED to say “i just got off the phone with the towing company and it’s going to cost me $300 to get my fucking car back all because you guys couldn’t take the fucking time to leave a fucking paper notification at my door.” but i did say it. all those psychology studies that suggest catharsis isn’t a real thing sometimes feel like bull shit. because i absolutely felt better post-reaming apartment rental guy than before it.

the good news is i was able to get it back that day and the towing process didn’t damage the paddle board that is strapped to the roof of my jimmy. that’s important. lately it has been hotter than sin in minnesota and my mental health experiences a remarkable uptick when i get on the water. worse things have happened to better people than having their cars towed for neglecting to religiously check their emails. so i got over it quick. but my dick is sore and i hope to not be reminded of that feeling again any time soon.

find a ninth path. this is water. zorbatheminnesotan@gmail.com