Thursday, July 30, 2015

Feces and fees

"Shit happens, that's why we call it life."

Words meant to reassure me, words meant to normalize a fuck-up.

A mistake that puts me in the passenger seat next to an Uber driver named Antonio, he's friendly and we talk about the lack of applications for a BA in math in the real world, a conversation that almost distracts me from the fact that we are on our way to the impound to pick up my car.

This morning I woke up to find that where I parked my car last night was now a freshly paved road with a distinct lack of car. The slight panic I feel seems to complete my metamorphosis into a true Angeleno.

My first call is to my fairy god mother. A friend of a friend who pretty much adopted me when I first arrived in LA.

Her instructions lead me to Antonio and both of us to the impound. I dwell on her words of comfort. “Shit happens, that's why we call it life.”

It amuses me how literal that phrase is, a thing is defined as Alive because it absorbs and excretes.

I poop therefore I am.

And right now I seem to have pooped a large fee to recover my car. I part ways with Antonio, joking that if he hears gunshots he should drive away. He laughs nervously and speeds off... Maybe that wasn't an appropriate joke....

Everyone at the impound is pretty friendly and professional. I leave with my baby and a bottle of water offered in good will. I think of the phrase

“hindsight is a bitch.”
 yet I realize she isn't a bitch, she's a dominatrix, Leather clad in regret and wielding a whip of everything we could have done better. One who we crawl back to because we feel like we deserve to be punished. I have been an irresponsible naughty boy!

It's been a shitty day.

I feel so alive.

No comments:

Post a Comment