FH and I visited a new brewery, Former Future, on saturday and then decided to head to wit's end to try their new selection of beers. We only had one beer at Former Future (it was good, but not as good as wit's end), thankfully, because the event that transpired next could have ended badly.
We were on FH's motorcycle (not the Ural) and debated dropping the bike at home before going to wit's end but we decided to go straight to wit's end on the bike. A blue subaru wagon pulled into the parking lot in front of us. I should mention that FH was blaring the motorcycle stereo, and the motorcycle isn't exactly quiet. We were about 7 feet behind the subaru.
Wit's end is in an industrial park so the parking lot is small, a row of parking slots on each side. As FH was trying to decide where to put the bike (the motorcycle parking had been taken over by a food truck) the subaru suddenly started backing up. FH and I yelled at the guy and FH tried to steer us out of the way but before he could push the bike backwards the guy hit us. FH laid the bike down and I somehow managed to, uncharacteristically, jump off the bike gracefully (I only got a little scuff on my pants where I rolled out of the way as the bike was going down - it's a touring bike and NOT light - I didn't want it to land on me, or worse, end up under the subaru).
As we went down the fucking fuck wit asshole kid who was driving the subaru finally stopped. He got out of the car and was like "um, what happened?" I was waiting for FH to lose his mind (he does have an Italian temper, on steroids) but FH was focused on the motorcycle and getting it up so he could see the damage. The kid (guess he was in his early 20s) appeared stoned and he launched into an explanation: "I'm sorry I hit you dude, I'm lost, and in a huge hurry". As soon as he said that I turned into bitch central and yelled "Oh, you're in a hurry, so it's okay that you almost fucking ran us over?" He said something else trying to defend himself and I started REALLY yelling at him, saying, among other things "you realize you could have killed us?!? and "we were yelling and screaming at you as you were backing up (his window was rolled all the way down so I don't know how he couldn't have heard us) and you didn't even stop until you hit us!". What made me so mad is that he didn't apologize (he didn't even seem to understand that he HIT us) and his general stoned as shit demeanor. Meanwhile, FH's thumb was bleeding all over the place because he hit a piece of glass as the bike went down and sliced a huge chunk out of his thumb.
FH and Stoned Fucking Asshole exchanged information and SFA gave FH $300 in cash (which is good, there are a lot of uninsured drivers in Colorado as I found out when I was rear ended by that cunt Kandy Schertz who never paid for the damage she did to my car and gave me fake insurance information). After everything was settled SFA gave FH a hug and shook his hand. He also offered to shake my hand but I gave him a hug too because his hands were shaking and I think I might have scared him with all my yelling. Though, I wanted him to absorb the gravity of the situation. If FH didn't have so many years riding who knows what could have happened. And I don't want SFA to kill someone else with his careless asshole-ness.
We went into wit's end to discover that the patrons had been watching the drama. Pat got FH a band aid (he refused it and instead put super glue on the gash in his thumb instead) and got me a drink. I couldn't stop shaking and I realized it was because I had been so primed to punch SFA that it was hard to get my adrenaline under control. In the end I'm glad I didn't punch him because 1. that's not an adult thing to do and 2. I might not have been able to stop punching him.
I will also admit that one of the reasons I was so pissed is because last saturday I spent 2 hours at the mall (I HATE shopping) trying to find a pair of pants that were not jeans that fit me (though the pants are an inch short they're tapered and they look okay, anyway, what designer makes small pants with a 33 inch inseam) and I happened to be wearing those pants when the accident happened. They were undamaged. As was FH and I (except for the thumb). The bike is another matter but FH thinks he can fix it, which turned out to be a fucking great deal for SFA.
Anyway, check your rearview and check your mirrors before backing up. And share the road with cyclists. It only takes a few seconds to kill someone, or damage the only pair of pants they own that fit them.
Sunday, October 12, 2014
the week is killing me...almost literally
So last week was not too exciting. This week I had to fly to California on Monday and that's when things went back to the usual, weird, "does this only happen to me?", shit.
One thing I don't like about Southwest is that you can book a flight that is more than one leg, but it's posted in departures as going to the final city, not the city you are going to from DIA (e.g. a flight going denver to oakland to burbank will be listed in the departures as burbank, NOT oakland). They also tend to have flights going to the same destination at the same time. I know this about SW. I ALWAYS check the flight number as soon as I get to the gate.
But this time I was two hours early and failed to check the flight number. I was standing at a gate that had a noon departure to Oakland, which is what my ticket said. Unfortunately, it was not MY flight because my flight was going to Burbank after Oakland and the flight I was in line for was going to Burbank and then Oakland. I realized this as the plane was boarding, and had to run literally 1/2 mile, with a 25 pound backpack, to the other end of the terminal to get to my flight, which I was afraid I was going to miss (after arriving at the airport 2 hours early, which I never manage to do).
They are doing construction to extend the terminal so it was kind of a shit show mess, but I managed to arrive in time to board my flight. However, as I was standing on the jet way I started coughing and couldn't stop. Then my eyes started watering and I couldn't see. I managed somehow to stagger to the back of the plane, where a flight attendant saw me. He threw my back pack on the last remaining aisle seat and handed me some water (I couldn't talk because I could hardly breathe). He then suggested I wait in the bathroom until boarding finished. Even after 10 minutes I couldn't stop coughing. Another flight attendant said if I couldn't get my breathing / coughing under control they would remove me from the flight.
I finally managed to sort of stop coughing and sat in my seat. My seat mate, a woman, immediately protested and accused me (seriously, not making this up) of having ebola (coughing is not a major symptom of ebola). The flight attendants assured everyone around me it was an asthma attack and they finally stopped arguing about me sitting near them.
The flight was the worst kind of torture because I had to suppress my coughing and my lungs were killing me and it was so hard to breathe that I had to hold a wet paper towel over my mouth to get in a breath of air. But, as soon as I landed in Oakland, though, and got out into the open air I was fine.
Nothing like that has ever happened to me before, and I don't have asthma. I realized on Tuesday, when I flew back to denver, the likely cause...
They were doing a lot of dry wall sanding and painting in the new terminal. In addition it reeked of carpet glue. As soon as I deplaned into the new terminal tuesday night I started coughing again, and I wasn't the only one. I think that as I was running to the terminal I was inhaling a bunch of some shit (dry wall dust? paint fumes? glue fumes?) that I was allergic to. Again, once I got into the open air, I was fine.
Fucking construction.
I will end this on a positive note. Once my cough had sort of settled down I got the names and employee numbers of the flight attendants that helped me (and, more importantly, didn't throw me off the plane). I sent an email to southwest explaining everything that had happened. They said they would pass my thanks on to the flight attendants, and then upgraded me for the trip home and sent me drink tickets.
So, if someone helps you, it's always good to make a big deal of thanking them.
One thing I don't like about Southwest is that you can book a flight that is more than one leg, but it's posted in departures as going to the final city, not the city you are going to from DIA (e.g. a flight going denver to oakland to burbank will be listed in the departures as burbank, NOT oakland). They also tend to have flights going to the same destination at the same time. I know this about SW. I ALWAYS check the flight number as soon as I get to the gate.
But this time I was two hours early and failed to check the flight number. I was standing at a gate that had a noon departure to Oakland, which is what my ticket said. Unfortunately, it was not MY flight because my flight was going to Burbank after Oakland and the flight I was in line for was going to Burbank and then Oakland. I realized this as the plane was boarding, and had to run literally 1/2 mile, with a 25 pound backpack, to the other end of the terminal to get to my flight, which I was afraid I was going to miss (after arriving at the airport 2 hours early, which I never manage to do).
They are doing construction to extend the terminal so it was kind of a shit show mess, but I managed to arrive in time to board my flight. However, as I was standing on the jet way I started coughing and couldn't stop. Then my eyes started watering and I couldn't see. I managed somehow to stagger to the back of the plane, where a flight attendant saw me. He threw my back pack on the last remaining aisle seat and handed me some water (I couldn't talk because I could hardly breathe). He then suggested I wait in the bathroom until boarding finished. Even after 10 minutes I couldn't stop coughing. Another flight attendant said if I couldn't get my breathing / coughing under control they would remove me from the flight.
I finally managed to sort of stop coughing and sat in my seat. My seat mate, a woman, immediately protested and accused me (seriously, not making this up) of having ebola (coughing is not a major symptom of ebola). The flight attendants assured everyone around me it was an asthma attack and they finally stopped arguing about me sitting near them.
The flight was the worst kind of torture because I had to suppress my coughing and my lungs were killing me and it was so hard to breathe that I had to hold a wet paper towel over my mouth to get in a breath of air. But, as soon as I landed in Oakland, though, and got out into the open air I was fine.
Nothing like that has ever happened to me before, and I don't have asthma. I realized on Tuesday, when I flew back to denver, the likely cause...
They were doing a lot of dry wall sanding and painting in the new terminal. In addition it reeked of carpet glue. As soon as I deplaned into the new terminal tuesday night I started coughing again, and I wasn't the only one. I think that as I was running to the terminal I was inhaling a bunch of some shit (dry wall dust? paint fumes? glue fumes?) that I was allergic to. Again, once I got into the open air, I was fine.
Fucking construction.
I will end this on a positive note. Once my cough had sort of settled down I got the names and employee numbers of the flight attendants that helped me (and, more importantly, didn't throw me off the plane). I sent an email to southwest explaining everything that had happened. They said they would pass my thanks on to the flight attendants, and then upgraded me for the trip home and sent me drink tickets.
So, if someone helps you, it's always good to make a big deal of thanking them.
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