Tuesday was Pioneer Day, which is an LDS holiday. Most of Utah was shut down for it.
I had trouble getting an Uber or Lyft ride the first few times I tried. The car was a good half hour away from my hotel but there weren’t any available drivers.
I tried a third time and was informed that Stella would be there with a Toyota Camry in 24 minutes.
Oh, thank God.
Sheila was 75 years old and had a little trouble staying in her lane, bless her heart. She was going to sign off duty and go to lunch with some friends but she said she had this instinct that someone was stranded because of the town being shut down for the holiday and needed a ride so she accepted it.
Yeah well, accurate.
We shared a lot on the drive. She talked about her addict son who passed away from HIV 20 years ago, and she had some funny stories about his addict behavior and the aliases he’d disappear for years at a shot under. He’d claim to be the illegitimate son of Anthony Hopkins. He’d get loans for cars that got repossessed two weeks later. It wasn’t a funny story, yet it was, because I just know it’s like.
I tried not to tear up when she talked about the end of his life.
I told her I was positive as well.
Stella is a wedding planner, “licensed officiant & ordained minister” according to her business card for Affordable Alternative Marriages by Stella.
I asked her if she was, by any chance, ordained by the Universal Life Church.
She said “Yes.”
I said “Me too.”
She looked surprised.
I asked her if she gets emails from the Rev. Amy Long.
“Yes, I do!”
“Isn’t she amazing?”
I took her card.
You never know, maybe someone I know will need some help with that whole marrying thing.
She said she does Grand Canyon weddings and other landmarks and parks and whatnot.
She was a doll.
She said she was glad she picked me up after all.
When she dropped me off she said “I just have to give you a hug, okay?”
Something cool happened today. You’re aware of the car situation.
It did what it does best, stranding me in some fucking desert or in Texas somewhere.
It’s gonna be a $1550 bill and I was totally fucked.
Mom went to my house and checked my mail and found a $4800 check from the IRS.
Me and my car are gonna come home soon.
God damn i needed something to give, very badly.
Could almost cry and I don’t do that bullshit.
“That which does not kill us makes us stranger.”
Turning 37* kind of went like this:
I wished Rob C a happy birthday. He just said thank you and nothing further.
Even mom forgot about my birthday.
Freddie said “hi” and didn’t respond for two days. I swear to Christ I’ve loved him almost as much as his mom for over 12 years now but I told him “if you ever do come to your senses and ask me out I will blow you off for the next twenty years.”
He replied “dayyyyyyyyum.”
I directed my attention to the chatroom next. I haven’t had the balls to tell Robin that her bitterness is cancerous and that everyone’s afraid of her and I need to forgive certain people and move on from whatever happened in order to grow from here.
I don’t want to drink from the bottomless well of their various resentments against each other or listen to people who want all of the “authority” without realizing that it comes with “responsibility” (and bills).