Thursday, August 13, 2009

Chicago, New York, Detroit, and it's All the Same Street....

Anyone from the Northeast has probably heard of Hampton Beach. My Mom lives in Exeter which is pretty close to the beach which is swarming with tourists all summer despite the fact that it is overcrowded, dirty, and trashy. Whatever floats your boat. So Mike has decided that it has to be there where he opens his shop, which is probably a good idea. Both my brothers blow glass too so they want in and are beginning to bring my Mom around to thinking about financing it. All of that sounds great , I want to remain friends for life. But I really want us to break up and do our own thing. I'm just a little worried that if all that happens he'll be really immersed in my life and I don't know how that will go. Maybe it will be perfect, as we are pretty much just best friends and roommates as it is now. He's talking about getting an apartment with my little brother, Sam, now. That could mean he may actually leave. Yippee! It also means that seeing my family will mean seeing him. Could be good or bad. In some ways it would make me feel less alone maybe. But would it make it harder to meet new people?
I plan on staying out here in NH for now. I can afford the apartment we're in by myself, just barely of course. And I know I can keep my dogs there. My share of the dogs that is. He has to take four and I'll keep three because I never wanted them to have pups in the first place. I love them but they are so much work sometimes. Three will be so much easier than seven. Plus I know everyone in the building and can hit them up for rides if I have to. Apparently, my sister's boyfriend bought her a beater car a couple months ago and she won't drive it because it's too crappy so she said I could have it. I'm supposed to go get it this weekend. I'm a little worried to drive it back here; what if it breaks down, what if I get pulled over? But it's a car and my Mom said I could keep it registered under her name for the rest of the year or however long is left on it. She had it registered for my sister and my Mom and I have the same legal name so I can get it inspected and shit. Mike already talked to a guy who said if it ran and didn't have any gaping holes, he'd inspect it. So if that works out that would take care of one problem at least for a little while. The fact that I don't have a ride has kept me where I am (with Mike) because it's really hard to live out here with no car. There is hardly any public transportation. Even the grocery store is at least a half hour away. So I've been holding out for some sort of car to really assert my freedom. So, let's hope the thing makes it up here.
I would not have even known it was there if Mikey had not been going down there recently. He saw it and asked who it belonged to. He got the story about my sister and her bf, and then they said they were planning to junk it because it sucked. Mike was pissed and asked if I could have it. "Sure", they said, "We didn't think she would want it".
How on Earth could they think that? Have they ever seen me drive anything but a beater? Ever? No. I learned to drive in an old, smelly Dodge caravan. I ran a stop sign and almost killed me and my mother. I had to take my driving test three times, and only was eventually passed out of pity. But, I swear, I'm not a really bad driver. I've just always been wary of cops, even before I ever did anything to be afraid for. And in Mass. a state trooper rides along for the driving exam. Full get-up, jodhpurs, patent boots, GUN and all. Scary. I just could not relax. What's really so bad about a rolling stop?
Then, after driving my mom's cars for a year maybe, because you get your license when you're sixteen, or I did, I drove a couple of boyfriend's cars. Then by the time I drove my own-ish car, I was seventeen and some. All through my junior year of high school I worked at a little fish market to save my own money. I went to private school where I had lived in a dorm for my freshman and sophomore years but then my parents split up and I moved back home and commuted for my junior year. But anyway, we had classes on Saturday mornings and all the kids were always hungry a few hours after breakfast and I managed to have, like, one class that day so all the night before I would use my mom's stuff at home to make all these baked goods; like muffins, breads, brownies, all kinds of crap and I would sell it to all these rich kids. Don't get me wrong, I lived in a nice house and had nice clothes and was spoiled by any one's standards, but some of these kids made me look poor. I made pretty good money between that and my real job, especially since my mom funded my little bakery operation and let me keep all my profits. So with the money I saved I planned to go to a bunch of Phish shows that spring and summer. A bunch of friends went too. So I took a bus out to Salt Lake City Utah the summer after my junior year and met up with my boyfriend, who was twenty years old and I had just met, like, two months earlier. What the fuck was my mother on? I don't know, but the Doc prescribed so it must have been okay, right? Must have been strong, at least.
So anyway, he picked my up in SLC in an old, gray Mazda pick-up truck with a cap on the back that was about a foot and a half too short for the bed. We had to cover the gap with a tarp. We spent a few nights in Utah, then drove route 40, I think it was called, across the mountains to Denver, CO and stayed there a few nights. After that we were supposed to go to Wisconsin but instead we decided to take our time and drove slowly over to Indiana. We arrived there a little early for the shows so we decided to find a place to sleep for the night and chill out until everyone else got there. We were driving around looking for a suitable campsite and decided to get ice cream. So we stopped at a little shop in the town until dusk and then started out again.
We must have been spotted driving in, because no sooner did we pull out of the parking spot then we got pulled over for not having our headlights on. It was barely dark yet, mind you, and we weren't even a block away from the ice cream shop, we'd barely had a chance to turn them on. So of course, they searched us. We were out of weed so we didn't have to worry about that. But my boyfriend broke like Filo dough and told them everything he knew about the mushrooms packed in our cooking supplies. I never would have told. They would never have found them. They arrested him and wanted to take me into custody for being under eighteen because they thought I was a runaway. I told them to call my mother and ask her to verify she knew of my whereabouts. That she did, and they told me to be on my way. I could go to the arraignment the next day at the town court house.
Great. I had to break it to them that I didn't know how to drive stick and I would be stuck here on the side of the road. You won't believe what they did then. The same piggies who just arrested a kid for less than a gram of mushroom shake after pulling him over for no headlights at 6pm in July, drove our truck to a motel and dropped me off. That must be SO illegal. There were no rooms available because of the Phish shows in town. They informed me there was a curfew of, like, ten for people under eighteen so I didn't want to risk trying to learn to drive stick that night. So I lurked around the parking lot until I saw some kids who looked like they were there for the same thing, the show. It wasn't difficult as most of the place was occupied by our type. I asked if I could crash on their floor after relating my story and they agreed.
I really couldn't sleep well that night. As soon as the sun rose I was out in the lot trying to figure out a stick shift. I asked a couple guys walking by for a basic explanation. From there I proceeded to buck and lurch through South Bend, Indiana trying to find the court house. I must have been pulled over five times that day for running stop signs and generally driving like an asshole. I really sucked at first. Now I would never buy an automatic car, ever. But then, I was terrified.
I am out of time now. I have to do all my end of shift stuff. I'm going to try to set up my scanner this weekend so I can add more visual aides to my stories. I felt more like writing about the past lately. Rather than continue to complain about the present. I think it's more interesting entertainment for people. It's making me remember a lot of things I haven't thought about in a long time.
Later.

6 comments:

Jeannie said...

It's interesting what some people get up to in their youth. Few responsibilities and parents for funding makes it easier. Having to make our own way forces us to settle more and more. What I don't really understand is why people keep wanting bigger and bigger houses and more and more stuff. It's driving me crazy taking care of all the crap I have now. It creeps up on you.

Sarcastic Bastard said...

Nellie,
I hope your boyfriend does move out. I think it will make you happier. I split with my husband of 15 years recently, and though I miss him sometimes (we are still friends and he comes over about once a week), I'm much happier now.

Seven dogs! Man. You are doing your share girlfriend.

You've lived quite a life so far. I enjoy reading about it.

Love you, SB.

Nellie said...

Jeannie - Yeah, I don't understand how we got to be so materialistic as a nation. I mean, I do understand, I guess, how it happened; but why are people prone to such crap to begin with? We're all guilty of it. Sometimes I find myself looking at an advertisment for something I don't need and longing for it so much. Or looking at shit on ebay that I'm never going to buy, but wishing I could. Logically, I know I don't need any of it. Maybe it's because I don't have very nice stuff and the nice stuff I do have, I really enjoy. So I think more would be even better, somewhere in my head. And there is something kind of sick about people, whether we admit it or not, which makes us feel better flaunting our success to those around us. Even if we think we don't.
One good choice I think I've made in my life, though, is I never got a credit card and racked up mad debt buying stuff I didn't need. I know so many people who have done that and are paying for it now. The only thing I really indulge in is food and drugs, for now. Maybe someday I'll have enough money to perhaps spend huge sums on vulgar amounts of material possessions. Probably not, though.
SB - I really hope he does too. Wow, 15 years. That's a long time to be married. I guess Mike and I have been together about seven years, only half that time. It must be such a huge change for you! I guess I have to admit that part of me is scared to be alone. I don't have a lot of friends around here, which is mostly my fault. And, really, he's my best friend more than anything. But we're just not lovers, you know? I know, in the long run, I'd be so much happier on my own once I got into it. I'm just a sissy when it comes to making a break or saying goodbye to someone.
Yeah, seven dogs is crazy. I know I'm, like, one of those crazy animal people. It wasn't supposed to go down the way it did, but here we are. It's a ton of work. And our new place has carpet, which is really old to begin with, and it's so hard to keep clean. I hate it, actually. Love the dogs but thank God they are tiny.

Jeannie said...

...our medical system used to be really good - everyone paid their premiums (welfare paid the premiums for those who needed it) then the liberals decided it wasn't fair somehow and made the employers pay but that really messed everything up so they reintroduced premiums. Meanwhile, because they didn't pay the doctors well for years, many left for the States. So now we have a doctor shortage which means I'm pretty much stuck with the one I have and am fortunate to have one. Many people have to deal with the clinics where I think it would be next to impossible to get a marijuana license. (My son's gf couldn't get a repeat on her birth control or anti-anxiety meds from one doctor! My son went nuts and got another doc there to do it). I'm thinking that I might ask for a referral to a pain clinic but the one here closed up when the doc died and the other localish one is backed up for 2 years because of it. I will continue as I am - it's not really a big deal. Most cops won't bother charging anyone who's smoking anyway. Dealers might get busted but I don't think that's even such a big deal. It's the grow ops they really go after.
But honestly - the relief I get from the tiniest amount of weed - it seems like a miracle to me. And how many other people are suffering needlessly when there's such a simple answer? And why do so many people think it's such a big deal?

Jeannie said...

Oh - I change the name of the blog all the time. I'm weird like that.

Sarcastic Bastard said...

Nellie,
I am a sissy about saying goodbye, too, obviously--that's why it took 15 years.

You are smart and a nice person. You'll make plenty of friends.

I really like being on my own. I can do what I want, when I want. It's nice and the cats and dog help keep me from being too lonely.

VV is the shit

VV is the shit
We all have to love VV