Friday, May 29, 2009

Worst Weekend Ever - By Flamingo

The Worst Weekend Ever - Why I Hate Pittsburgh
By Flamingo
Edited by Meistro
(Editor’s note: I have decided to keep track of all 61 things that went wrong, thus the numbers)

Chapter 1: The Setup

Several years ago I was invited to a wedding in Pittsburgh. I knew the guy who was getting married, as he (briefly) dated a friend of mine who was also going to the wedding. Basically, this guy (Satan) that I also sort of knew, but not well, needed a date.

He was in the wedding party, so he needed a date that was able to hold her own. Enter me. We had never dated and I knew him as a friend of my friend, from high school.

I agreed to go because I knew a bunch of people who were going, including this mutual friend, so I knew I would have a good time with her no matter what.

You might ask, “Why go with a stranger?” Well, he was cute, I like parties, and my friends were going.

Since we had a lot of lead time before this wedding (I said I would go in like, July, the wedding was in October or something), Satan, and I started talking.
And talking…
And talking…
And next thing you know, we are talking for hours every day. We like each other.

Of course, I’m thinking, “This is super. We are going to hook up!”

Unfortunately, we did not hang out except for that time in July when he asked me to go with him. He did not live in the city, he was from NJ and at the time he was living in Delaware.

Chapter 2: Invisible Driving
The plan is for him to drive from Delaware and pick me up at work on Thursday; we're doing the rehearsal dinner, the wedding on sat, etc. We are driving to Pittsburgh. (1)

Once we are in the car, after months of getting along famously, he says not one word to me. (2)
Nothing…
It is so awkward… (3)
He didn’t even try… (4)
It is unbelievable…
But not for long…

We are maybe, 45 minutes out of the city, on the turnpike and he starts freaking out. He’s all, “Something is wrong. OMG! My heart just skipped a beat, I'm having trouble breathing." (5)
He is convinced he is having a HEART ATTACK and I’m sitting in the passenger seat trying to talk him down.
He is freaking out!
I tell him to pull over (6)
He does and we take a walk around the car. He drinks some water. He thinks he's ok. He gets back on the road. I'm good in emergencies.

10 minutes later
"It happened again, something's wrong." (7)
He's a total mess. Sweat dripping from his brow, pale skin.
We pull over again. (8)
I feed him some food, give him some more water, and tell him to get in the passenger seat and close his eyes, take deep breaths. I will drive. (9)

So far not his fault, but it’s only Thursday afternoon at this point. I drive the ENTIRE FUCKING WAY (10) to Pittsburgh while he sleeps next to me. (11)

Chapter 3: No Money, No Problem
We arrive at the hotel and go to check in to our room, under his name. I’m sure you can guess who's credit card is declined. (12) You can probably guess who put her card on the room instead. (13) Apparently, because he rented a car, they put a $2,000 hold on the card.

Of course, he's very apologetic. "I'll write you a check. I'm so sorry, etc."

We go upstairs, he's feeling better, and we decide to go out with our friends who are already in Pittsburgh. Going out was great, we had fun. While frustrating, none of this was really his fault so I didn’t blame or “strongly dislike” him, yet.

Later that night, we go back to the hotel room and go to sleep. There has never been a wider space between two people in a hotel room bed, ever. (14) 1 bed, 5 feet in between us. At this point, if Friday or Saturday goes well, it’s still “on” between us. At least in my mind this is what I’m thinking.

Chapter 4: Friday Freakout
Friday morning, I wake up, he's gone.
I look out the window, onto the parking lot.
It's like 815am.
He is pacing the parking lot, on the phone. (15)
He comes inside. "It's happening again, there's something wrong with my heart" (16)
He’s totally freaking out.
He wants to wake up the GROOM and have him take him to the hospital. I say, "Don't do that, I’ll take you." (17)

So I drive him to the hospital, where he is promptly admitted, as he believes he is having a heart attack. (18)

He asks me to call his parents whom I have never met. (19) I tell them what is going on. I’m giving them updates every few minutes. They jump in the car, driving from northern NJ to Pittsburgh, talking to this strange girl (me) the whole way.

We are at the hospital ALL DAY! (20)
ALL FUCKING DAY!
There's nothing wrong with him. (21)
He was, as you properly guessed, having a panic attack.
He was a little over caffeinated because apparently on Thursday he had gotten up really early and had like 18 double espressos… and 5 sodas.

I call back his parents again and tell them not to come, after they’ve been driving for 2 hours. (22)

If this was all that had happened, it wouldn't be "the worst weekend ever."

Chapter 5: Rehearsing for What?
We go that night to the rehearsal dinner.
It was lovely.
We go out.
We have a great time.
Things are looking up, but we don’t hook up.

Chapter 6: Wedding Day Disasters
Saturday, the morning of the wedding, all our other friends arrive (including some of my best friends from NJ).
It's great.
We go to ceremony.
It’s lovely.
We go back to hotel.

Satan (my date) takes the limo to the reception with the rest of the wedding party, without me, as planned. (23)

I am with my best friend and about 5 other people -- the only other guests our age at the wedding who aren't in the wedding party. We find out, that there is no transportation from the church or hotel to the reception, which is like, 45 minutes away. (24) No bus. No van. No carpool. Nothing. My date didn’t know this, or didn’t tell me. (25)

Satan has the keys to his car with him, (26) and who wants to drive to a wedding anyway? Thus, we call a cab to take us there, which takes 1/2 hour to arrive at the hotel. (27) As we are waiting, we miss the cocktail hour, which I DO NOT LIKE. (28)

Just as the cab comes, we get a text message that the wedding is "running out of alcohol" (29)
We are concerned.
We finally arrive at the reception.
We pay $35 for the cab (30)
We are not pleased

Chapter 7: I Didn't Receive Anything at the Reception
We arrive at reception about 1 1/2 hours late convinced the bar is running out of booze. This results in double 7&7s with Jagermeister chasers. We had thought that possibly the “running out of alcohol text” was a joke. It was not a joke. (31) They only had an alcohol budget of like, $350 dollars. (32)

The reception is at some shithole hall and it's got these crucified bleeding Jesuses all over the walls. (33) In fact, I have a picture of me and best friend posing in front of giant crucified Jesus. For mental image’s sake, the reception ballroom had plastic table cloths. (34) (Editor’s note, I don’t think “Jesuses” is a word, but I’m not sure you can even pluralize it properly)

None of that is Satan’s fault, but it still contributes to the worst weekend ever.

After hitting the $350 limit, the bar shifted to a cash bar and then they completely ran out. (35) Either way, at the reception, Satan does not even glance in my direction. Let alone talk to me. (36)

Somehow, I’m fine with this. At this point, I’ve given up. (37) All those hopes and great conversations we’d had leading up to this point had become pretty much meaningless. It appears as though Satan is going to be hooking up with some snaggletoothed fat ass bridesmaid. (38) Whatever. (Editor’s note, I think snaggletooth's are sexy)

So the wedding ends and the wedding party leaves, in the limo. (39)
However, it takes 45 additional minutes for our cab to come. (40) During this waiting period, they close the reception hall, (41) and throw us all (about 7 of us) out into the parking lot. (42)

Then the bride walks by with her mother.
Mother: who are all these people in the parking lot?
Bride: oh, they are “Groom’s” friends from NJ. They are Soooooo low class. (43)


Of course, to solidify her point, my friend “J” ended up breaking some stuff. (44)

Chapter 8: After the Party It's the Hotel Lobby
The cab arrives and it's THE SAME CAB DRIVER. We get in the cab and at this point, we know our saving grace will be.......... THE HOTEL BAR
We are excited.

However, after a substantial period of time, we realize that we are driving around in circles.(45) We realized that it did not take this long to get from the hotel to the reception. When we ask where we are, driver says we’re on the way. When we ask the fair, he says $75! (46)

Considering this is the same cab driver as before, we know it didn't cost that much, and he knows it to. We tell him we don't have the $$.

He pulls over on the highway and tells us to get out. (47)
We get out. (48)
I manage to convince the guy we have the money, considering there are 3 of us standing outside of the cab on the highway. He lets us back in the cab and drives us to the hotel. As we get out of the cab at the hotel “P” punches the cab driver in the face (49), and then runs inside and gets some cops to arrest him for trying to rip us off. Of course, ”P’s” loaded but somehow, we manage to escape this situation.

We see Satan and fat-ass bridesmaid at the hotel bar.
Right as we arrive, the hotel bar closes. (50)
Satan disappears with snaggletooth. (51)
(After all the frustrations of the weekend, I probably would have hooked up w/him at this point still, just to have one good thing to say about this weekend.)

We spend the next half hour in the lobby trying to convince the hotel bar to serve us. (52)
Finally, it's 3 am, I decide to go back to my room. You might not be surprised at this point to learn, I am locked out. (53) Chain lock on our hotel room that I’m paying for.
I give up.
We go to Denny’s. (54) (Editor’s note: Actually, this doesn’t count, I love Denny’s) (53)
We return to hotel.

I sleep, for 2 hours, (54) almost completely naked (55) wedged in between “N” and “P” in a twin bed. (56) They are sharing the room with another couple who are getting it on in the bathroom.(57) I have no clothes because all I had was my dress, which didn’t require a bra even.

Chapter 9: Leaving Pittsburg Forever
We wake up at 6:15am. (58)
I return to my room.
It is empty.
I take my stuff and bounce. Apparently Satan went back to that girl’s room at some point during the night.

The high point of the weekend was the truck stop we visited somewhere on the Pennsylvania Turnpike. It had good milkshakes.

“N” drove me to NJ, while “P” vomited in the back. (59) He may have had a bit too much to drink. Maybe it was the sight or memory of me topless. Regardless.

That's it. That's "The Worst Weekend Ever"

Afterword:
Satan proceeded to move BACK to NJ not terribly long afterwards. He moved in with my friend “N” for nearly two years. (60)

About 4 months ago, when he moved out, I emailed him, to ask if he would send me a check for the hotel room. Who wouldn't like an extra $300 from someone who's not really your friend anymore? He actually had the balls to never respond to my email. Not even a "money's really tight for me now, I'm sorry" or "really, I thought we had already worked that out" or "I thought we were going to split it 50/50." (all of which would have been big fat lies) (61)

Word on the street was that like, 2 days before we left for Pittsburgh, his ex girlfriend of long time told him she wanted to get back together.

2 comments:

Mr. Horsham said...

wow

Anonymous said...

that was amazing