So let me tell you about this crazy day of mine. Oddly enough it started with me getting soaked by the poorly installed sprinklers in my front yard. Normally I wouldn’t mind some wet action on a hot summer day, especially keeping in mind that I was wearing a white shirt, but in this particular case I was on my way to court, running late mind you, so I was slightly less than thrilled.
You must be wondering why such an upstanding, law abiding citizen as myself is going to court in the first place. Well my friends; I wasn’t always this lame. 7 years ago, I was driving over the speed limit, running red lights and sometimes even cutting people off. On one particular occasion, the young and reckless little me was taking her hienie and the hienies of her two friends to Malibu Beach. It was the 4th of July weekend so unsurprisingly the girls got stuck in a check point type situation. Thankfully they didn’t have any liquor in them or even on them (not yet anyway) so they didn’t have anything to sweat over. Regardless, no one was feeling the long line of cars that was beginning to block the sunset. Some time passes and cars in the front are starting to make u-turns and bouncing. The young me was like ‘pshh I’m not gonna stick around if this is an option’ so without think twice about it, she bolted. By bolted I mean of course she carefully made a safe u-turn out of the one lane, through the double yellow lines and down the hill in the opposite direction. Not two seconds later a cop was pulling her over, of course. Needless to say she was all like ‘what the hell yo?!’ – the cop didn’t appreciate that very much. He was all like “I was gonna let you off with a warning but since you decided to be an asshole; here’s a ticket”. Can’t say my young and high strung (for no reason what so ever) self didn’t deserve that.
Fast forward. I postponed having to go to court for as long as I could and when I couldn’t delay it any further I plead not guilty in hopes that the cop wouldn’t show up; and when it was finally time for the hearing I up and moved to another state. Oh yeah, smart and responsible little cookie, I know… Fast forward 6 more years. I’m back living in California, and I receive a lovely letter saying ‘Hey did you forget about this one thing that you did that one time? We didn’t! Please pay us $900 or we suspend your license’. So that’s how I ended up in court; fighting a ticket that’s 7 years old. Crazier things have happened I’m sure.
So I’m wet from the sprinklers, conquering traffic, blah blah blah… I arrive on time and am surprisingly in a pretty okay mood considering I haven’t had coffee or breakfast yet. Don’t you worry though; that changes abruptly when the judge comes out… First of all, she’s a “Temp”. Second of all she’s a fat, miserable C word. She snarked and sneered at every single case. She rolled her eyes and prolonged the O’s in her okays in a matter that only an annoying teenager would. Why are you so miserable, lady? Is it because your husband won’t screw you? Is it because you’re just a temp and you feel the need to prove something? Is it perhaps because you’re a blonde whore but despite the commonly known phrase, you have no fun at all?
I plead not guilty. She goes ‘Ooooookay’ and proceeds to set bail for the full amount. I was slightly surprised seeing as how they “usually” dismiss that sorta thing. I say “usually” because I know nothing on the matter, but it’s just what I was told. I kindly ask her to explain why the amount had to be paid within the week instead of after/if I was found guilty. The bitch straight up starts scolding me like a little girl, telling me how it’s unfortunate that I decided to neglect my responsibilities and miss my initial court date by moving out of state, but that we all have to pay for our mistakes. Fool, you’re not my mother! And she did it with an even uglier, more condescending face than the one that she came in with. How about some professionalism in this courtroom that you’re a Temp in, huh? No? Okay then.
I pay the full amount. I schedule my court date. I leave. I text my friend immediately of course, cause a bitch needs to tell her best bitch when she encounters a major bitch who’s got no business being a bitch. As I do so, my phone slips out of my hand and falls on the concrete. My shiny phone that’s less than a week old is now cracked – awesome. That’s what I get for having such negative emotions about another human being I guess.
Moving on… The day is far from over as I now have to drag my ass in a completely different direction for my standing dentist appointment. It’s completely out of my way on even a regular basis but even more so today seeing as how the courthouse is all the way in Bumblfck. I deal with it of course because I love my dentist. So I get there and we’re small talking and whatnot and then she tells me that my replacement trays (invisalign) haven’t arrived yet and that I’d have to come back again in another week or so… Ummm, then why am I here?! I love you lady but what the hell? So she gives me some whitening gels to shut me up and sends me on my way.
Leaving the office, I think to myself – What else could possibly go wrong today? It’s finally lunch time and the weather is beautiful. I quickly find a place with a rooftop – my favorite kind. I can’t however say that this particular lunch was my favorite. First of all my wine glass was made of plastic, which is understandable because of there being a pool and all but still, I’m the type of girl that really enjoys good stemware with her wine. I’m also the type of girl that likes to have her phone charged; that’s why I carry my charger around. So when my poor, broken phone was at 14% and I couldn’t charge it due to their outlet not working, I was mildly annoyed. I was slightly more annoyed when the bartender couldn’t answer my questions about the menu. He didn’t know anything about it on account that it was “new”. Okay, I work in the service industry and I know that when a new menu comes out it is the staff’s responsibility to learn it. So whatever, I decided to take a chance on some tacos. You know what happens when you take a chance on tacos in Beverly Hills? You end up with an $18 plate of tacos the size of your finger. They should have called them Tiny Tacos – at least then people would know what they’re getting themselves into. I wasn’t even upset; I just sat there drinking my overpriced wine out of a plastic “glass”, eating my tiny tacos and a flat crabcake, watching gay boys lather each other up with tanning oil and spying on the Dos Equis dude out of the corner of my eye. The only thing that’s more common in Beverly Hills than tiny tacos is a celebrity citing.
My phone died eventually, which of course is the last thing that prompted me to leave. I paid the valet and took my already exhausted ass home. Severe LA traffic was the final addition to my crazy day. Come to think of it; the day seemed crazier than it actually was. Sure it was filled with a bunch of annoying things, both large and small; but at the end of the day, it’s nice to leave it all behind and just snuggle up under a blanket and not think about any of it.
