Futz Said Peter

I'm hoping my shitty week is officially over. After the unfortunate events recounted in my previous post, even worse circumstances came to light just the next day. I had just left the bank asking that they send me a new card. I called home to thank my parents for canceling the card and updating them on the situation. I told my dad I'd see him tomorrow night at 9. He went to travelocity's website to check to verify the arrival time, but my break was about to end so I told him to call me if something came up. I went back to work and my phone rang at least 4 times. My dad's unusually persistent when he wants to contact someone. It seems strange since he never answers his phone when anyone calls him.

The phone calls stopped and about five minutes later, as I walked by the register at the back of the store, one of my coworkers told me I had a phone call from American Airlines. That couldn't be good news. My manager said it sounded pretty important and that I'd better take it. I walked to the back room and picked up line 1. I was delighted to find out it wasn't American Airlines but my manipulative mother bearing a message from the bastards at AA. Turns out they reserve the right to cancel flights and move your flight time if they can't book enough tickets. It also turns out they reserve the right to inform people of this reserved right until the day before they plan on leaving. My flight, originally leaving at 7, was moved to 3. I was scheduled to leave work at 1. Not even with the most reckless cab driver in Boston could I have made it to the airport in time to get my ticket and board (especially without my ATM card.)

My manager walked in as I finished the phone call. He caught the tail end of the conversation which I realized left him a little puzzled since I was panicked about something "they" had done. "That was my mother. She said they just moved up my flight four hours," I said.
After I explained the situation, he said he didn't want anyone to miss xmas so he'd let me work from 7 to 11 instead. The only problem with that was that I had exactly $14 and some change left to my name and the bank was closed. I ended up taking a cab to work. This cab driver was very amicable and as law-abiding as his predecessor. Unfortunately he charged 4 times what the other guy did. Luckily when I arrived at work, I still had a few dollars left. The work day dragged on for far too long, but I did leave with plenty of time to make it to the airport. On the T ride over my nose started bleeding. It was the most random nosebleed I've ever had. I used the back of my hand to press on my the bloody nostril. (I never use the palm. That has far too much interaction with far too many things. Especially since I came from work, I did not want to shove all those germs up there.) Anyway, when I walked into the airport, I couldn't really hold my nose any more so I walked in with blood on my knuckles and more blood streaming down my face. I don't think I ever looked more like Tyler Durden. The looks on their faces were priceless.

Kinda Bad Day

So today was supposed to be a good day. I went to the gym (which was apparently open even though winter break has begun). That made me very happy. After relaxing for a bit in my room I decided I'd get in the xmas spirit of trying to buy just the right gift for just the right person. I took the T out to Espresso Royale and read another chapter of Atlas Shrugged. I'm still very early in the book, but I love it. I'm kind of scared though. One of the characters seems to have the exact same thought processes I do. I won't say who just yet because I'm not sure what horrible fate awaits him.

After my delicious bagel sandwich, I headed over to Barnes and Noble. As I was poking around for fun things I get a phone call from a boston number I'd never seen before. I picked up. It was my manager. She probably wanted me to cover for someone who hadn't been able to come in today. I was ready to tell her I'd could be in an hour or two when she asked where I was and why I wasn't there. I offered a hurried apology and said I'd be in as soon as I could while running down the escalator. I foolishly thought I could make it to work that day by taking the T. Rule number 1 in Boston is never to rely on the T when you need it. I remembered this only after I'd paid $5 for a T pass. And wasted $1.25 on a T ride. Realizing the inefficiency of this decision, I ran back upstairs and stood around on a street corner hailing every cab that went by until one finally picked me up. I've decided cab drivers are some of my favorite people in the world, but only when they're on your side. I think they must have lobbied for the ability to break any and every road rule. I can't remember one red light that he obeyed unless a car in front of him had stopped. He took me to my dorm and waited while I changed into my work shirt. As we pulled up to the mall, he told me he didn't take credit or debit cards. My opinion of him briefly grew to intense hatred. I ran inside to an ATM, pulled out more than enough for the fare, ran back out and told him to keep the change. As I ran back in, the security guard looked at me like he'd seen me steal a $5000 watch from Mont Blanc. "Hey slow down there. Why were you running?" I jogged by him acknowledging he'd spoken to me only by muttering "late for work." I'm pretty sure I heard one of my coworkers say I looked like a heroine junkie when I walked in.

The situation got much better when I went on my (reduced) break to get some food. I fished my wallet out of my pocket and discovered I couldn't pay for the sandwich I'd just ordered because my card was not there. Bad news indeed. I ordered a latte with the last cash I had in my wallet and went over to the bank to see if they'd found it. I knew I'd left it in an ATM there; that was the last time I'd used it. My break ended too soon and I didn't get to talk to anyone there but I did manage to call my parents one of whom was able to cancel the card. Minor crisis slightly averted. The rest of my day was entirely word related and mostly uneventful. I'm going to go shower my track marks away. Nighty night.