I hate to have the second post on this blog be a rant. I figured that I would at least let any readers out there get a taste for my kinder side before throwing it all to the wind. But, hey…can’t always get what you want.
The first part of this will be a flashback to September of 2006…then we can go from there.
ECHO FROM MYSPACE.COM Circa Sep. 10, 2005-Jan. 14 2006
September 10, 2005
“Welcome to the 20th century!”…I think he meant 21st, but I was too lucid and shocked to care…
Elaboration will come.
September 11, 2005
His name was Arther…they called him Andre Agassi because he was bald. He was a recovering meth addict who lived with his now ex-wife and proceeded to tell me that I would never find the perfect woman as Lesa stood by in shock. I told him he needed a shovel to dig himself out. He then said, “Fine, (looking at Lesa) you’ll never find the perfect man.” I told him he lost the sale. He apologized, looked nervous and then proceeded over the next 20 minutes to sell me a car!
I will pimp it as necessary.
This is going to be interesting.
September 17, 2005
I get a call from the world’s greatest finance manager yesterday. The dealership from which I bought my car had great news; they lowered my payments…by four dollars…yeah.
So I went today to the dealership and found my good friend, the meth head, Arthur and talked for a bit before I was pulled into Del Rocky’s office. He told me something that made me giggle a little bit. Apparently the bank through which I financed the car wouldn’t allow them to rape me at the rate they did…so not only am I paying four dollars less, I got my APR reduced, and 12 months taken off my term!
I did the calculations in my head to figure the savings…$3966.18!! Whoa…I guess even the bank wouldn’t let them give it to me that bad…so…now I am alot more at ease, especially since I am up for a raise.
September 21, 2005
HAHHAHAHHAHAH!!!…For those of you that know me…I mean really know me, you know that I seem to have a vortex of irony that follows me. For example, when I moved here (Phoenix) I mailed my stuff here and when I arrived by train, all of my boxes were mailed back to Pittsburgh because I had written only a partial address on the parcels…yeah.
Sooo…I will begin this with a count…
I owned it for ELEVEN fucking days. All is takes is an instant…or perhaps a brief exchange of words for it all to change around. He ran the stop sign, the cop said it was “a fail to yeild”, but yeah, he ran the stop sign.
I haven’t owned a car in years…5 or 6 to be approximate. Why would I think that it needed to change?
It was a powder blue Jaguar pulling out of a local gated community. I could see the shag biege interior as at 40 miles an hour I tore off his front bumper and completely destroyed the front right half of my car…during rush hour.
I pulled to the side street and ran back into traffic to push his car behind mine. It wasn’t shag…it was carpet. The whole inside of the car was carpet. He wouldn’t raise his head…not because he was ashamed, but because he was physically unable to. Not from the accident, but because he was in terrible shape for a 58 year old.
As the cop took his information, apparently, he just (2 weeks ago) got out of driving school for a red light citation. Apparently you can’t teach an old dog new tricks…like braking.
God damnit, I didn’t want to take tomorrow off, but I need to make some calls…and my lawyer.
PS-I kinda found it ironic that after all that Lesa’s newest netflix movie was “Crash”…haha.
November 19, 2005
Arthur and I, almost as if a de ja vous, walked the sunny lot of Bell Road Toyota. The concrete was warmed by the Phoenix sun. I drove a Scion XA both standard and automatic. Finding that my budget almost made it too tight for happiness.
As we walked, I said, “You know Arther, my dream car isn’t a car at all;it is a van…a white Astro van.
I am not sure which caught my eye first, the giant yellow balloon or the fact that it was attached to a 2003 Chevy Astro. Not only that, but after my laughter and joy was subdude, I opened the side door and the electrician who owned it before left the shelving and rubber floors and gated door partition.
It came to 13,579 and my insurance and monthly payments are way lower and I giggled the whole way home.
Well, I am glad this whole mess is over and life can get back to “normal”.
Happy hunting folks.
January 14, 2006
So the average american owns thier car for 7.3 years. Well I have always been called above average so I suppose that is why I can’t own a car past 2 months.
Why the hell do I even bother. This dumb hick of a woman decided to leak through lanes of stopped traffic to get into my (the curb lane) via illegal left turn. She was cited for “impedeing traffic” and was ver shook up. The girl in her passenger seat was about 20-24 and got a large lump on her head. I can only imagine that getting hit by my van at 35 miles an hour with no time to stop would shake you up a bit. There was also a little 10-12 year old little girl in the back. She was ok too. When the drivers husband showed up, it almost became Jerry Springer. He got in my face about whether or not I was insured or not and I better be claiming liability for this. I just gave him my signature look of unimpressed disdane and said as mildly as possible…”no”.
When the guy asked the cop if they could leave, he said, “no, I still have to right her up.” Dude was pissed.
I, meanwhile, am a little sore and walked out of the ER on thursday only being seen by the triage nurse with minor cuts and strains. I think it is a sign that I should just save up for repairs to my bike.
Also you all should check out Lesa’s last blog titled “Guess who’s pregnant?”
Talk about a fucked up couple of days.
Breakfast time loves.
_________________BREAK ECHO MYSPACE___________________
September 15, 2008
The funny thing is…it almost seems gravity itself pulls at my luck for life. I suppose.
I was sitting at my desk g-chatting with Lesamonster:
Lesamonster:Are you coming home from work soon?
Gabriel:No, I told you I had to work late.
Lesamonster: Oh, well when you get home I have some bad news.
Lesamonster: I’d rather not say through chat.
Gabriel: Did a glider die?
Gabriel: Cat die?
Lesamonster: No one died.
Gabriel: Well you have me stressed the fuck out now. Can i just call you?
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>ADVANCE TO TELEPHONE<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
L-Someone hit your car…
L-A witness left a note on your van.
G-They get a plate number?
G-Okay…well, I guess I’ll come home cause I can’t focus on work now with this in my head.
L-Okay…sorry baby…love you.
G-I’m just glad no one was hurt.
G-K. Love you too. I’ll see you at home.
So there I am riding my bike home thinking about how bad the damage might be. I get home. I park my bike on the porch and like a parent at a mourge, start slowly approaching my van. I slowly pass the front and proceed to the driver’s side where the damage was hiding like a scared animal.
I was pretty sad.
With plate number in hand, I made a non-emergency police report. At the same time that I was trying to talk to the police an Barack Obama supporter came up to me as he happened to have my information to ask me questions outside my house. The cat got out the front door at the same time. I finished up with the police, tackeled the cat, and talked to the soliciter…in what seemed in my head to be one fluid motion.
It was just the beginning to the week.
Now it is Friday. The air is calm. My head can absorb everything that happened this week. It hit me hard.
I am in a foul mood. Before the van thing on Monday, I tweeted-“Thanks to M83, I just felt the subtle hum of my life as it drifts through space…it was quite a beautiful moment.
I think it was a universal buffer to prepare my head for the week.
Here’s to more positive posts in the weeks ahead.