New Shoes = Comfort Purchase

I failed to realize how annoying friends can truly be when you're confined to a Corolla-sized cage with them for hours.

I released my Thursday morning shift so I could ride up to see Derek for his twenty-first birthday. I was already pushing my luck to get up there in time for last call by leaving after my dinner shift, what I estimated to be around 10 p.m.

Then somewhere along the line I ended up agreeing to pick up Jessica and then Rob, two people with almost completely opposite personalities who do not get along well together. I thought that telling them to act like adults to each others would pacify the situation, since we are adults (or we're supposed to be).

Wrong.

They subtly bickered to each other most of the trip, including drive time and time actually spent up there.

But let's backtrack.

I was already bummed about having to leave so late, as I was the latest-working one out of us three. Jessica had said that she would get out of work at 8:30, and around 9:50 starting texting me asking if I was almost done. Then she asked if I would pick her up at her new boyfriend Jeremy's house, which is a little out of the way. When I get there, SHE IS NOT READY. I had to wait about 15 to 20 minutes for her to finish showering or whatever she was doing.

I had pretty much admitted to myself by this point that we would not be making last call, though I was no less upset about it.

We stopped in Tampa to pick up Rob, and then my car radio was hijacked from me. Let me clarify how nice of a person I can be: I pick up two people, one of whom is a last minute addition to my plan and somewhat out of the way; I'm driving, so they don't have to; and I also allow them to shut down my music and argue amongst themselves as to what should be played in my car.

But it's Derek's birthday, so I let it roll off.
We miss last call.

Ended up going and smoking at Derek's on his trampoline, probably the most enjoyable part of my trip. I watched Andrew very likely give himself a concussion from falling or accidentally jumping off the trampoline, once into a fence (which broke on his neck).

My hungry stomach reminded me I hadn't eaten in 15 or so hours, so I decide to make a trip to McD's with Derek as my guide (I am high).

Me: Let's go.
Andrew: Where are we going?
Me: McDonald's, I'm hungry.
Derek: Who's driving?
Me: I am.
Rob: You mean I am.

[note: Motherfucker, are you kidding me? I don't even let my parents drive my car, and didn't we just have a conversation on the way up here about your speeding tickets and other moving violations?]

Me: No, I'm driving. It's my car.
Rob: I don't think you're in any condition to drive.
Me: I'm fine. Thanks.

Probably the height of my irritation all night. D drew Jess and I a (shitty drawn but accurate) map to get to McD's, and the two of us left a sleepy D and pissed off Rob on the couches watching sports.

I'm going to omit the part about the anti-productive technology that is soft drink conveyor belts.

We get back, the boys are passed out. We eat, smoke a bowl, and I have to fish around in D's pocket for the keys to his room so that we can sleep.

After a peaceful three hours of sleep (thanks again, Derek) we grab some lunch at Arby's, which is originally what we wanted the night before, and this begins the transition back into the car for hours and also my being pushed to the edge of my patience. I'll shortly recap the trip back.

Jess tells me she needs to be to work at five. So not only does she invite herself, she also restrains my time in town for my friend's birthday.

I paid $60 in gas for filling up before I left and when I got back home. Of that $60, $10 was given to me for "my trouble." One of my two passengers gave me no gas money.

[P.S. "You can smoke in my car if you roll down the window" does not mean, "You can smoke a cigarette in my car every twenty minutes while allowing the ashes to fly around my car, get on my clothes and upholstery, and make my vehicle smell like an ashtray." You have effectively lead to a new rule that NO ONE will smoke in my car, henceforth.]

Rob attempts to act like my babysitter by telling me I'm "not in any condition to drive" because I'm high, when he himself has never danced with Mary Jane.

There is a torrential downpour on the way home, about 50 miles outside our town. I have to slow my car to a crawling 25 mph just to see the lines in the road and the brake lights in front of me; at one point I considered pulling over and letting it pass. This slowed progress, and I could sense Jessica's worry over not making it back in time to cash her paycheck before work (despite the fact she invited herself, didn't drive, didn't give me any gas money, and made me leave before I wanted to because she had to work but didn't tell me until we were already on the road there).

But this is the best part.

I said, "I'm listening to whatever the fuck I want to on the way back. Deal with it."

Extremely trying. I doubt that I will be going anywhere further away than 30 minutes with Jessica or Rob again, and especially not with them together.

Please allow me to show you my awesome new shoes while I calm myself down:

I saw these shoes and almost creamed myself.