Tuesday, May 15, 2007

Lorelei Gilmore and me (no spoilers)

She is 95% caffeine.

I am 95% anger.

Before I tell you this story please let me remind you that MKAEP doesn't live in New York City and she was ear witness to a murder. At least I'm not there...yet.

I went out for dinner with Peter Weekly and then walked him through my apartment (past the annoying talking boys) and up to my apartment to grab the dog. Then I walk him to meet his lovely bride in what I consider to be a sketchy part of the neighborhood. No trouble, pleasant walk back with the dog.

Until I get back to the courtyard.

Literally just as I get into the place there's a verbal argument starting amongst the annoying talking boys. As I stand there it escalates to a fist fight. And then one of the 10 unbelievable idiots sitting on the bench gets up, whacks his 40 on the ground (repeatedly, it's really not as easy as they make it look in the movies) until he's created a weapon. At which point I go to the "security" pavilion to see if they've called 911. They have. More importantly, though, they're fielding a call about a stopped up sink.


Good luck with that.

Someone else makes himself a weapon and we're off to the races. A number of the ass monkeys disperse into my building. The initiator stands in the center of the courtyard brandishing his beer bottle and screeching about a scratch on his arm while one lone brave kid tries to convince him to get the hell out.

I can finally go in to the building. The lobby is the set of CSI. Bloody beer bottle and about 15 feet square of blood spatter.


I call the police myself and dictate the freaking Lifetime Original Movie of the event.

Scratched, angry young man leaves with his ever-loyal friend.

Then the police arrive.

I went down, I chatted for a long time with a police officer who told me, in rotation, that I was calling in the incidents wrong and that our security sucks.

Our security sucks? The people who throw the gates wide when it's raining because no crime happens in the rain? Really? Seriously?

Wow, thanks.

So now I probably have blood on the bottoms of my shoes (took 'em off inside the front door, I promise) and I've put in 2 calls to the campus manager and I am all of the pissed off from all of my 10 things this morning and more.

Stupid kids.

Oh and my mom found her phone charger. It was in the bathroom where she last charged the phone.

Fancy that.

Hey, will someone tell 2007 that he can kiss my ass. I'd do it but I don't have time what with all the righteous anger and Yankee repression and you know, remembering to put on clean underwear.

So, what did you do tonight?


  1. You called in the incidents wrong? Explicame, por favor.

  2. You're pretty when you're mad.

  3. 2007 CAN kiss your ass. And mine too while it's at it. These things make me boil. Calling in the "incidents" wrong? Call this bucko. I hate that you are living in 8 Mile. I guess we need to pack up some F-OH-ty's for you to have on hand as back up ammo. Don't worry. I won't send ALL the bottles empty.

  4. Anonymous2:25 PM

    Oh, GOD.

    I don't know what else to say - I'm dealing with my own anger issues over here at the moment, so I'm not exactly eloquent. Sigh.