tiassalada

The next time some asshole calls me lazy I will direct them to this post.

I don't know if I did something in a previous life that constantly makes odd shit happen to me but I do know that I constantly attract assholes. Sometimes I get a double whammy and have to deal with stupid assholes. But generally I deal with them on a daily baisis. Today was one of those days. Today I got a two for one special.

Anyone who has ever known me knows that as soon as it gets nice out I start to ride my bike. Pretty much I do it during the day. I used to go riding all over the city when I lived in Chicago during all hours of the night as a result of insomia or when I was too cheap or broke to take a cab to the bar. Being in a corset and 8 inch heels did not stop me, I have great reflexes and a headlights on my bike. Still baffles me how I never got shot or hit while peddling home in a drunken freenzy. It has it's benifits you know. By the time you get home you are sober and you have burned off what you have consumed what you drank.

Well today I was sober (because it was still early) and I was dressed in my usual daytime outfit. Cut offs and a t shirt. I had several pit stops to make. One was the fabric store to get buchram. It's the stuff I use to make my hats. No one really buys it anymore. I'm pretty much the only one who buys it from Handcock fabrics. If they run out it's because of me and they always order more because they know I will be back.

So anyway, I get on my bike and start peddling away. I go to the bank and Target then I head to Circut City because I need to have my cell looked at because I think that there is something wrong with the charger. So I'm riding towards there and cross the road in the parking lot. There is some sort of sports store next to Circut City, I never really looked at the name because I had nor have no reason to. shit, I don't think I have even ever been in a sporting goods store.

There is a lady walking out and there is a car in front of me at the stop sign. I'm still pedding, rather slowly and I see that the driver at the stop sign see's me and is waiting for me to clear the way. I thought that the lady saw me too and I assumed she would wait for me to go but she kept walking. I guess since she was looking at the driver in front of the stop sign and did not bother to check the other side. I don't know, maybe her parents never told her to look both ways before she crossed the street. Shit, I never got much advice growing but I got the basics. Well that and I was also told to never take a laxative and a sleeping pill at the same time.

So sports good lady almost crashes into me. Like inches away. As I said before I have good reflexes so I put on my brakes on the handle bars. The impact causes me to fly forward and and my pelvic bones slam against the handle bars. Holy hell did it hurt. Sports good lady starts laughing and says.

'Omg, I'm sorry I was watching the car on the other side".

WTF, it's not fucking funny you moron. I mutter a god damnit and tell her to watch where she is going. Apparently this idiot does not like being called on her bullshit because she starts screaming. REALLY screaming. It went something like this.

"WHATEVER YOU FUCKING BITCH, I'M SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO SORRY FOR CROSSING THE ROAD. I HATE BIKERS. YOU ARE NOT EVEN ALLOWED TO RIDE A BIKE IN THE PARKING LOT. BESIDES, YOU ARE ON THE WRONG SIDE. STAY AT HOME YOU STUPID BITCH. GOD DAMN YOU, YOU FUCKING BITCH.

Wow, and I thought I had a potty mouth. Three times a lady and three times a bitch. I got my bitch points. Go me!!!

Please note, I am not one of those asshole bikers. I stop at stop signs, I don't go through red lights. I'm very cautious. Unlike this idiot.

So she is still screaming so I give her the finger over my shoulder and turn around and smile. This causes her to go even more crazy. I'm actually kind of amused. Usually if people swear at me it is work related. This is in a parking lot. Now this is something new.

So she is still screaming and I park my bike and lock it up. I go inside and all is o.k with my cell phone. I fuck around and look at stuff I cannot afford. After about 10 minutes of electronic window shopping I decide to leave. I go outside and walk towards my bike. My bike does not look like itself. What the hell? What is wrong with this picture? I get closer. I'll tell you what is wrong.

THERE IS COFFEE DUMPED ALL OVER MY BIKE.

Not just any coffee either. That stuff with the whipped cream and caramel too!!! It must have been an extra large too cuz there was a shit load of it and every inch of my bike was in the sticky goo. I'm pretty sure that the lady did it. Crap I wish I had gotten out sooner because I may have caught her in the act. Imean I am pretty sure she did it.


O.k. I don't care if you are lauging now but keep reading because this shit gets better.

So my bike is covered with over priced coffee that sort of looks like an ice cream desert but I am not going to let this stop my from buying buchram. The main reason why I left the house in the first place was to buy some buchram so buchram I will buy. I just need to get this shit off my my bike before it starts attracting flies and I have an even bigger mess. The people at the fabric store know me so I am sure that they will be nice enough to give me some paper towels to wipe this crap off. I walk my coffee covered bike to the fabric store and park it and walk inside and ask the cashier for some paper towels and explain that some asshole has dumped coffee on my bike. The cashier says she will help me out but the two girls who she was ringing up seem to be rather amused by this whole thing because they over heard it.


"OH GIRL, YOU GOT COFFEE DUMPED ON YOUR BIKE,AHAHAHAHAHAHHA!!! The two idiots high five each other and act as though this is the funniest shit in the world.

o.k. it's funny, I admit it. But it is no THAT FUNNY. The fact that I was wearing a t shirt with a trailor on it reading "welcome to my white trash palace" just added to the whole thing. Yes, go a head and laugh at me and point. Take a picture of my bike for all I care with your cell phone.

I buy ten yards of buchram and go and unlock my bike. Luckily there was nothing more added to the caffinated mess. I start biking home and notice that the sky has gone from sunny to dark in nearly 5 minutes. I'm hauling ass and thinking, shit I really hope it does not start to rain on me. Normally, it would not bother me if it rained as I was biking, but I have a bunch of buchram in a plastic bag that does not cover all of it. You see when you get buchram wet, it sticks and takes on the mold you are using. I don't want it to start to stick together while it's rolled up, that would suck. I have hats to make.

So I'm getting close to home and the sky is getting darker. Oh shit. It's gonna rain and I know it. Please, please, lords of fashion, don't rain on me. I promise to be a good girl from now on and not say ghetto fabulous anymore or make fun of people who wear "chanel" t shirts that have an extra "n" and I will not swear at strangers anymore as well, even if they are obviously stupid and deserve a good tounge lashing and a bitch slapping too. I pick up the pace and tell myself I will beat mother nature. No one is gonna rain on me or my buchram. I'm thinking to myself as I'm riding that this reminds me of back in the day in Chicago when I used to ride my bike to school because it was so windy. Fabrics and patterns and all. Sometimes I did it in a dress too. I hated taking the bus. Public transportation sucked in Chicago. The worst was when people would try and sell you shit on the bus. God, I think it would really suck if the bag broke right now.

Guess what happened? Yes, the bag broke. I didn't notice it at first, all of a sudden I hear this weird noise, sort of like a flutter. I know this sound because this has happened before, bags breaking and fabric falling on the street. Mother nature must have know I was lying about making fun of stupid people because she got me right then and there.

Holy shit, it's about to rain and I have no idea where my buchram went!!! I look around and notice that my roll of buchram is now rolling down Osborne ave, heading towards University street.I run after it while holding my coffee covered bike, praying that a car won't run it over. It rolls on to the sidewalk and just sits there in the grass. I park my bike and pick it up. The guy at the stop sigh gets out of his truck and asks me if I'm o.k. and if I need any help. Dude, I'm fine. This is just a normal day to me,what the heck? You've never seen anyone chase a roll of buchram down the street.

"You're sure" he asks.

"Yes. I'm fine. Thanks though"

O.k. so I have my buckram but no bag. It's gonna suck getting this roll home. Luckily there were no tire tracks on it. No one ran over it. I can't hold it in my left hand because there is so much of it, the only alternative I have is to put it under my left arm pit and hold the handle bars with my right hand. Since I don't have much feeling in my right hand this is going to be a bit of a task but I am convinced I can do it. All I have to do is get this buckram home with out getting it wet. The sky keeps getting darker. Mother nature already knows I am full of shit and that I have no intentions of keeping my promises.

Back on the bike path and buchram under my left arm pit. All I need is for a train to come.

Naw, my karma ain't that bad.

Wrong!!!

The damn train shows up and now it is starting to sprinkle a bit. Rain drops are falling on my head and I am about to have a panic attack. Well not really but I am getting really pissed. This is bullshit. My god, must you keep sounding that damn horn Mr. Train Driver. Jesus Christ, crazy lady from the parking lot and her over priced coffee was punishment enough.

So after about ten minutes of waiting I can now cross.

Easy does it. I get past the stop light and and about two minutes from home. At this point don't care what happens anymore because I am over making promises I know I will never keep.I get to the top of the drive way and get my bike in the garage and it starts to pour for 10 minutes straight seconds after I get in th house. The roll of buchram has now absorbed a bit of my DNA and I unroll it to make sure that it will not stick together. I go to the computer and see am email from a ebay buyer. She wants a refund.

This is the part of the two for one special.

Apparently she has taken a can of red spray paint to her white ostrich headband. She had the intention of trying to change the color and it resulted in a clumped up, red stinky mess.Her attempt did not work and she wants her money back or a new item. This is not going to happen. She claims that I should have warned her not to do this. How and or why would I assume that you would do something so dumb? Am I really going to have to start sending a three page disclaimer with my headbands and hats? Don't do this, don't do that. Do I have to now give my buyers instructions like the bag of free peanuts you get on flights?

"open bag, eat peanuts"

I had a lady who threw a 400.00 headband in the washing machine with the attempt to get the smoke smell out. I had a lady who tried to sue me because her cat ate here hair clip. I had a lady who claimed I ruined her wedding because she decided to change her mind last minute and thought she should get her headband for free and I refused to give it to her.

The list goes on and on and yet some how I keep doing what I am doing.