There has been mention of how I don't ask for much of men here on this blog before. I'm still trying to decide whether it is because my mother raised me to do things myself or if my social upbringings consistently remind me of its pesky behavior. Either way, I like to think I owe little favors because I've asked of little favors myself.
However, there is one particular favor I find myself asking for one too many times:
(some place the moon is shining bright, a phone rings)
"Hi. Can you take me home?"
This might be a usual request from one that is too much under the influence to operate machinery (and even then there is usually a "sober buddy" with her); however, the fact here is that the not-so-average-female in question simply does not know how to drive. I never got my driver's license. Never tried. I only have a permit, for the sole reason of being in possession of an identification card for flying commercial flights to a city where driving yourself around isn't quite the economical way to live.
|Oh how I love the intentional|
hypcrisy of this photo.
11:09PM December 31, 20XX: A few days before New Year's Eve of 20XX I caught a cold. I knew I wasn't feeling completely better by the time New Year's Eve Day came around but for reasons unconcerning, I could not miss this particular party I ended up attending to that night. Despite twisted beliefs, I took prescription cough syrup and Benadryl pills for the sickness prior to stepping out the doors. It was probably a bad decision then to consume a mix of liquors the same night. Long story short, I called it quits before the countdown even began. The particular gentleman I decided to call on was wisely lounging in comfort at his home, also sick (and coincidentally turned down that same party). After a strange attempt at giving him directions to the place, he made it before my dignity could come back up my esophagus. During the drive home I remember briefly looking at my phone that read "12:04AM." After verbally bringing recognition to the new year, we glanced at each other, then laughed at the retarded girl with the headspins sitting in the passenger seat.
|See how I ditched my date |
even after the night was over?
Sometimes I laugh at the things I did.
0?:??AM May 3, 20XX: When my junior prom ended, I ditched my date and went to stroll Bourbon Street with a group of lady friends. We ended the night at the host's home. And by "host" I mean to say the daughter of a limo driver who had his colleague drive us around that night, not the host of a house party. The limo driver was instructed to drop everyone off at the house and we were to find our own rides home. It didn't bother me much. Not at all actually. I ditched my date, a dear friend of mine that attended the same school, for several reasons: one of them being that he honestly wasn't the "date" I really wanted to go with. The then unspoken truth was that the gentleman I called on to take me home instead of a relative was the "date" I wanted to take with. (There are also several reasons why it wasn't right for him to go with me, but that isn't the point here.) At the time I called, he was entertaining out-of-town relatives who were guests of his home. I hadn't known until I was already in the passenger seat and it made me appreciate the gesture that much more. But what really made the night was when he drove thru Taco Bell's line to feed me. He had asked me if I wanted Taco Bell previously and naturally I said yes assuming he was going to order something for himself. But he didn't. And when I drew out a bill from my wallet, he refused it. He took me home right after in order to return to his relatives. The relationship we shared wasn't always full of caring times like these, but this in particular, one of the last times spent alone together, reminds me that we always meant well.
1?:??PM April 1X, 2009: A few years prior to this date I made a close friend, T1. A few months prior to this date I made a closer friend, T2. They shared the same birthday, and both had their celebration on this date. I attempted to make it to both. Attempted because it turned out T2's ended earlier than I had anticipated, or I anticipated leaving T1's earlier than I did. Though before either of this was known it was planned that T2 would come pick me up from T1's when I called on him. Might not seem too unusual considering everyone in town knows I can't drive myself anywhere, but T1 didn't particularly enjoy T2's existence. I'll just say when I gave my goodbyes and someone asked who was picking me up, I replied with a lie, "My mother." So there he was, a gentleman in his car waiting for me outside of the house who's patron wanted him dead. And why? Only to see me home. It wasn't until I got in the passenger seat that he told me his party actually ended a bit ago. But I wasn't going to end the night so soon and have him be just my taxi driver on his birthday. So without question, we convinced ourselves to drive to the grocer's for waffles and ice cream.