Remember to note that I am not an expert at anything, and at this rate, I'm not really sure I ever will be o.O
Just Some Blurbs To Start This Little Diddy
When people have come and gone from your life, like they have in mine, you pretty much become ageless, because it makes you feel ANCIENT. What a paradox! A true phenomenon for, well the ages! Ha!
Some days I wake up and everything is kewl. Life is amazing and everything feels likes it's just vibrating all around me. Waking up on the right side of the bed is a real thing, and when it happens it's only because I push myself into getting there. God(s) has(have) just blessed me with another day and I know I am going to conquer and kick some serious ass! I also feel that it is important to mention the God and I do have heart-to-hearts from time to time. Sure, people give me funny looks or may be judging me because to passersby it would seem like I am having a conversation with just myself, but I know who I'm talking to. So, who gives a fuck? I sure don't! Regardless of your religious beliefs (which is why I put in the (s) in the beginning of the paragraph) I want to be inclusive as possible here. All are welcome here.
So, those are the kinds of days that I love. Waking up and actually feeling fresh, ready for the day and just, in a good mood all around. Some of you may be reading that and thinking, huh must be nice, because IDK what the fuck that feels like. And I am sorry, truly. I know sleep does not come easy. I struggle all the time with getting to be before 10:00 p.m. which is difficult because I'm up by 5 in the morning and I hate it. I am NOT a morning person at all. In fact, I kind of hate those people because it feels like they are rubbing something in my face that I know I will never have.
And I woke up to the sun shinning in my window Monday morning, after a late night of writing and then popping 2 benadryl to get to sleep faster. Which would have been fine if it hadn't also been my first day at a new job that I was now 2 hours late for.. See what happens when you don't stick to the rules and routines that you should be holding yourself more accountable to? Ya, it's hard to maintain organization in your life either all the time or at any given time of the day, week, month, or year. But goals are always good to have, especially when they come from the rumblings of a mad woman :D (that's me, and I'm almost always flying by the seat of my pants!)
But, it's also not impossible. God(s) does not put us through more than we are capable of handling at any given time (which is about to segue into my next WILD story here shortly) and I feel like that's pretty true. For as stressed as I may be a large majority of the time, I also know how blessed I am at the same time. For instance, coming from the background of an alcoholic, bipolar, She Devil for a mother, and a dad who was always doing what he thought was best, but ultimately had no business starting a family in the first; That's a fucking lot! And there is so much more behind it all too. A lot of pain, heartbreak, abandonment, anger, jealousy, and ew is this sounding so glum. But, I'll reveal more of that B.S. over time (maybe). The She Devil I mentioned likes to call me often and is always drunk whenever she does.. And I just feel like life is sad enough, ya know? People don't want to read about the depressing crap (plus, I just really don't need anyone feeling sorry for me. I'm here to make the people laugh! And question my sanity a bit.)
Called Upon To Do Strange Things.
Anyway, I have had such a crazy life and done so many weird things, AND been approached in so many serious weird wasy, it's honestly hard for me to even know what the hell I should talk about next. I mean, people out here are cray cray. I'm talking 2 gorillas, no banana, super Looney Tunes kind of shit. And for some dumbass reason I'm a magnet for those types of people. At least my life is never dull? But damn do I hate drama. Which doesn't always stop me from diving into the thicket of it a lot of the time *face palm*. So here we go..
I was coming back from a professional meeting with someone, if you will (Ooooo, what does that mean? So mysterious.) I happened to turn into a parking lot because I noticed a truck for sale that looked almost exactly the same as the one I used to have, but in black. So I turned into Lunds and Byerlys, and noticed this petite, seemingly frail woman, sitting outside her SUV, door ajar, her head buried in her knees, her arms firmly secured around them, and her vehicle was running. I immediately forgot all about the truck and even as I was doing this I was thinking, Kursten, what the hell are you even about to do right now..?
I tried to get her attention and as I was doing so another concerned young gentleman came over and decided to sit down across but adjacent from her. Once we were able to get her attention, we saw that she had been crying. It's probably also worth mentioning that the contents of her purse were strewn about her on the ground. As she was confused and disorientated, the guy that was sitting across from her began asking her questions, and I went into full detective mode. There were a few different prescriptions that she seemed to be on the pavement, as well as her wallet, which I immediately open to get our damsels name. Blondie, got it (not her real name, obviously, but, privacy is huge).
We soon discovered these anitdepressants weren't the only thing she had in her system, but she admitted to taking Benzos(? no idea what these are for), as well as having drank an entire bottle of cucumber vodka. Which she had me eventually take a small swallow from after driving around in a circle for her. Needless to say, this bitch was on one, and she was fuuuuuucked up. Also, I realize that some of may think this story will be coming to a close, because any reasonable person would have called the police and let them handle this situation. Not my dumbass! :D
Besides the fact that I hate, I mean HATE, the police, my past experience growing up with alcoholics put me in the unique situation of having a soft spot in my heart for this woman, and an overwhelming need to want to help. I'm a true vigilante I know, but it may get a little stressful reading though this, so please bare with me. (I'm not sweating, you're sweating!)
Memes, Coming To A City Near You
More On Blondie The Tragic Mess.
Eventually Mr. Hero ended up leaving the scene. Mostly because I don't trust men and I went into protect mode over this stupid tiny drunk blond dumb dumb. We'll stick with calling her Blondie, seeing as how she was a total hot mess. Which is true to how most blondes behave, or so I assume (Oh for the love of all that is holy. Please always know that I am, of course, joking). And before I get any further, I feel it is worth mentioning that this entire story is true and this woman I am about to describe to you is very real. I also say this to remind myself, because as you know, my memory is a crap shoot!
So I offered to take ownership of Blondie. I mean, it's not like I didn't already have experience with drunk people who are riding a bad wave through a shit storm. But, I was a total stranger to this woman, and if I wanted her to stay off the streets (LMAO because the streets of St. Cloud are so rough, pffff) I was going to have to establish trust with this woman, and FAST.
We ended up sitting in the parking lot listening to music for a while getting to know one another, or as well as one could get to know the other seeing as how one of us kept slurring their words. But I found out that she lived in Allexville (which is a made up place) and I told her I would drive her back home in my car. Which made perfect sense to me, since she was married (and the size of that rock, hot damn!) he could easily drive the both of them back here to eventually pick up her car. But from here things started to get a little complicated.
So we set sail for home base and as we were 5 minutes into this venture, we discovered that we needed to go back to get her phone. Total derp move on my part. I had to park for a moment after that while she explained to me that there was a hotel somewhere around here, and that she needed her phone to find out where that was. I guess she was in town for a bachelor party or something wedding related? If my memory recalls correctly (hahaha) then I believe that's what she claimed, but she was also still so gonezo who can tell?!
So, the thought, as well as the plot, indeed thickens. What exactly is this hotel for? A wedding is what she said to me, but how much is true, and how much is a lie? Regardless, whoever is supposed to meet her there. She is not getting there because I can't find shit about that on her phone. But we won't mention that I also don't know how to operate an iPhone very well.. And that's when I started to lose her a little bit.
She grabbed the bottle from her back seat, and wanted to drive away again. At this point at least an hour and a half to 2 hours had gone by, and I know damn well she is not okay to drive yet. But I do live real damn close to this place though, if you count several blocks (at least 10+) as close.
Think Kursten, think, what can you do to stall her?! Maybe I can compromise somehow? And this is where I make a potentially fatal mistake, but it was the best idea my brain had to offer at the time because I was slightly panicked (though you'd never know just by looking at me).
"Okay I'm going to stand 20 paces away from you. If you can walk toward me and your keys in a straight line, I will let you follow me back to my place and you can recoop for however long you need. Does that sound like something you can manage?"
Without any real hesitation she was back on board with me, that was, of course, after she asked me if I was a cop. I laughed hard at that one before I replied to her with a, "Honey, if I were a cop I would have had back up all over your ass well over an hour ago now." Unfortunately the slippery little minx passed with flying colors. Seeing as how I am a woman of my word, and a total fucking idiot, I gave her keys back to her.
I started up my car and said a silent prayer before firing up my caddie and edging my way out of the parking lot. I regretted it soon after pulling out of there and onto Division Street. We were traveling at the pace of a timid animal, per courtesy myself because not only did I not want to lose her, but I also didn't want her to rear end me. As we are driving along I start feeling queasy and uneasy as I notice her swerving into and then away from the sidewalk. And that's when I noticed I had her purse.
Please don't get pulled over or lost right now. God, if she gets pulled over how the hell am I supposed to get her dumbass purse back to her? What if this accessory ends up making me an accessory to something really fucked up? Okay, now ease into this stop, please, by Zues's beard, please do not crash into me!
We rounded what would be our 4th to last turn to my place and then I almost lost her at the Holiday station that was near. Shit. I immediately turned around and parked at the pump, car still running, and walked up to Blondie's driver side.
"How come I lost you back there? Are you feeling pretty tired?" She nodded and I told her to get out and get into the passenger seat. "Let me park my car in this lot over here for the night. I will drive us the rest of the way to my place, it's just another few blocks from here. Super close."
I proceeded to do the ladder and once I popped into the driver side I tried not to be nervous at how much of a pimpin' ass ride this was (I'm talking newer Cadillac model SUV NICE) and Blondie immediately began to ask me if I was mad, not once, thrice, but very many mice. How could I possibly be mad riding in the lap of luxury? And just Who the hell really is this mysterious Hospital Working woman? For the life of me, I can't remember what she does, but I know it was something to do with the medical industry thanks to her revealing the small amount that she had, as well as seeing her key fob when I was pretending to be Sherlock Holmes earlier.
Comic Courtesy @eckyo
We're Almost There!
So, it's a good thing my place is not far, because this little elf is near tears. Funny story, I actually don't do well with overly emotional people, unless they are fucked up somehow. I think it's because a large part of me knows that said person (whoever that may be) will almost definitely not remember having that conversation. Knowing this takes the edge off of things for myself and turns me into a totally kewl and supportive wizard.
In no real time at all we are at my place, and in between here and the gas station, Blondie has said that she loves me at least a hundred times now. I'm really feeling the "love" you guys, along with the "are you mad" and "you're so awesome" repeats that are spewing from her delicate mouth, I'm actually not any of those things. Not so surprising to me, but a true skill to anyone on the outside I guess.
Next was the most fun part, which was getting up the stairs to my place. I had my arm around her because she was tripping all over herself, and at one point we almost fell backwards at the top and I had a mini heart attack. Mostly because the stairs leading up to my door are metal, and they are semi spiked. So falling down those mother fuckers would definitely end in either a death, or a serious paralysation for me. Then of course the cops would be involved and we all know how I feel about them.
And at last, we are through the door! We made it. Thinking back nearly brings a tear to my eye. So, we get her shoes off, and of course she slips on my floor and and is apologizing for falling down. And we were doing so well up to this point..
I set her up on the couch, tell her to stay put as I grab her a glass of water and look through my wardrobe to see if I have any comfy stuff for Blondie to switch into. My place is a total mess by the way, and for some reason I found myself apologizing about this. Didn't we just talk about how she will not remember any of this? My brain, I swear. Blondie of course is not interested in the wares I am offering. This doesn't trouble me any, I just know that if it were me I would be flinging my pants off to get comfortable like right away (and in fact, I have. *laughs nervously*) I get her phone plugged in and charging and as I am doing so she gets a call.
You would think it was her husband calling to make sure she is alright, right? Nope. Just a guy that she claimed to be best friends with. But if I'm being perfectly honest with y'all, I think it was her "daddy" and this whole hotel meet was some kind of secret rendezvous, if you know what I mean. And the only reason I say and think this is because she thought and expressed to me that she was willing to "pay" me for helping her. Which I very firmly expressed to her would not be occurring between the 2 of us that evening (though, to be even more honest, she was the cutest gal, fucked up mess, and all). And she did end up planting a few sloppy ones on me, which definitely was NOT cute.
Soon she was passed out on the couch and I covered her up and left her be. After a bathroom break from Blondie she found me laying in my bed and attempted to cuddle fuck me. She was rubbing all up on me, complimenting my "nice big ass" (her words, not mine) and proceeded to grope and fondle me. I was starting to sweat at this point because, I may have some slightly gay tendencies, but I honestly don't think I'm gay. And if I am, this was certainly NOT how I wanted my first time to be! DX
"Hey heeEEEEEEy, careful with your hands now," yep, she's touching her boobs with my hands now.kay. "You know what I actually insist on being the big spoon." And before she had a real chance to say no, I switched positions with her and wrapped my arm around her, making sure to lock her arms under mine as I did so.
"Mmmmm, you're so warm," she stated.
"You're damn right I am. Now lets go to sleep since we both have work nice and early tomorrow."
Within 10 minutes she was asleep and flailing about in the bed. She actually smacked me in the face at one point. Jesus. I guess that's my cue. With her finally asleep I went out to the couch and got as comfy as I could, made sure my alarm was set and was out, after about an hour or so of night fueled overthinking.
The next morning is kind of a blur to me. My first attempt at waking Blondie was unsuccessful of course. I left her be while I got ready for my day. Once that was out of the way I entered my room, and, clapping my hands together several times, "Alright, rise and shine babe. Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey. I've got a glass of water for you, some Tylenol, and you're going to take them." Blondie, being somewhat confused and disoriented still, slowly regained her faculties but didn't fight me on the help I was sternly offering her. Lucky me. "Your car is parked outside and mine is sitting at the gas station some blocks away from here. I hate to seem like a dick who is rushing you out of here but we both have lives to get back to and I personally think today is going to be awesome, how 'bout you?"
Her blank and somewhat bewildered gaze said it all. From there we gathered up her few belongings, she offered to drive me back to my vehicle, an we made small talk on the way (which was mostly her asking me what had happened that night and her wanting to know where I found her.) The poor gal had no idea what happened last night, but at least she didn't accidentally kill someone, or worse. Someone else with nefarious intentions could have stumbled upon her. St. Cloud isn't the most dangerous town in Minnesota, but it isn't the best either. I mean, there are literal fires that have to be put out almost every damn week, so it sure as hell can't be the best!
Fast forward a few months to the day of my birthday (which, luckily enough was on a Friday this year) and I am rushing up to my apartment to get ready for a date out in Saint Paul. Before I head up though, I always check my mail because, you know, work smarter, not harder. It's usually only bills but this time there is a card in there addressed to me. That's weird, there's no return address. Wonder if mom gave my address to grandma.
'Hey did you give my address to oma or something? I got a card in the mail but idk who it's from.'
I leave my phone and the card on the counter and start getting ready for an evening of dinner and dessert with my sexy date. A couple hours go by and I check my phone in the midst of things.
My mom, 'No. Your card from gma is sitting on my counter.'
I immediately put my phone down and opened the card. Maybe it's from work or something. These were the contents:
Not only was the card itself one of the sweetest and most heartwarming things I had ever been given, but it was one of the most generous! There was a whole ass hundred dollar bill in that bad boy. After that, I immediately texted Blondie (forgot to mention that we exchanged numbers before she dropped me off that fateful morning.) I thanked her and mentioned how nice her gift was to me, and how much I actually needed the money. She then insisted I treat myself and actually get something nice, the words of a true mom.
But Wait, There's More
But of course, you win some, you lose some, right? So I'm on my way to the cities (keep in mind that were I am in conjunction with Saint Paul is about an hour and twenty minutes or so drive for me), and I am literally 10 minutes from my destination when General Dickwad decides to text me and tell me that its getting too late and we will have to reschedule; but he hopes I can understand. It was only 9pm, on a FRIDAY! It's kewl, it's kewl. He's a busy professional, I'm sure he's very tired from being at work all day.
'That's alright, I understand. Another time then.'
Instead of going to our meet up spot, I decided to stop in at DeGidio's where my brother works. No such luck though. I take a seat at the bar, am given a menu, order a drink and eye the place up. Not much had seemingly changed about the place since I worked there about 7 years prior to this day, besides the fact that I only recognized a few people working that night. So weird, it was like being in the Twilight Zone somehow. It was fairly quiet though, which I enjoyed. After my second drink I noticed a text from The General himself.
'What are you up to?'
Bitch, it's 10:30p.m. and your dumbass cancelled on me last minute. What the fuck do you think I'm doing?
'I'm sitting at a bar downtown. I thought you would be asleep by now?'
'Ya, I'm tired but I can't sleep. Maybe you can come help me out ;)'
WHAT?! The audacity of this guy. I mean, seriously!! DX<
'Sounds like a personal problem to me.'
And that was the last time I ever heard from General Dickwad, and I honestly couldn't give 2 fucks to Sunday one way or the other. A neighbor doesn't get to cancel on me and then think he's gonna get his dick wet after that. I do NOT fucking think so. So listen close ladies and gents. Can you see? Do you have your reading glasses on? Good.
YOU ONLY GET ONE CHANCE. Okay, now read that again, with some conviction!
I have been through, and seen enough shit in my life so far to be so over everyone's bullshit by now, it ain't even funny. Because, if you are even a fraction of the man, woman, or non-binary what-have-you that I am, you know that sticking up for yourself automatically makes you a "bitch" or a "dick". Which is just the way ignorance is, and if you don't have a thick skin, that shit gets ROUGH.
But you know what? You're not either of those things. Babe, you're not an asshole for wanting to be treated with respect and decency, because, at the very least, that's what everyone deserves. No matter what. I have had a lot of hard jobs in my time on this earth and one thing I always like to tell myself is this. You don't have to like me, but you will respect me. I've come, I've conquered, and I will not be broken or shaken by your actions or you opinions. And I mean it too, because if I didn't, oh honey.. I am certain I would be here today.