Side Street Saga: Let Go and Just Trust Me
Coming out of the overnight and my car is busted. The belt has slipped off and I don't know piddly pee about cars...I like to pretend to, but lets face it, I'm lucky I know how to check the oil! I drive it home with hope and a prayer.
Call the one of two car people I know directly in town, leave a message and cancel out on my 11am Liaison meeting. Fuck! So I go to bed.
Get woken up by wonderful one of two car people I know and she can't help me, but recommends an auto store. In this whole process I have been consulting with my Dad, he is as supportive as he can be 159 miles away. I can tell he loves me, even if he is as shocked as I am that I don't know more car people. I think he thinks because I am a lesbian, car fixin' chicks should be a staple. I don't question. I offer up that I may not know car people, but if you ever need to organize a peaceful community organized event, I know a whole bunch of dykes who could pull it off! Now, tell me that's not useful. I try to remember this while feelings of pissed off helplessness flow through me. I count my blessings. I can only remember two.
Get a corner away from the autopart place...my gages begin to dance...ironically to the beat of both my heart and tummy, so I pull off at a Truck Company. No comment here because it could be construed as slander...I'll just say fucking gas guzzling ass holes.
Call tow truck at 1pm while Gas guzzling ass holes watch, complete with someone looking at my boob. I scratch it with my middle finger (I tell myself this is not the best of me, even if I feel sadistically in control while boob freak's eyes flutter away.)...get a guy coming out to tow. Go out to the car, take out the lap top and begin to ball hysterically while I write a personal journal entry. It has more cuss words and graffic images I won't post here. Lets just say, it was not my finest 1/2 hour. Parts of me I try to love, but really just live with.
Tow truck dude looks at the car...says its the pully...I make him prove it. I now need to take it to the shop. I would get it back by Monday possibly, $200 out of pocket, if Iwas lucky. Then in the process of taking me home and finding out tow truck dude and I have much in common, tow truck dude has an idea....
I am taken to a side street machinic - retired master machanic or so he says. For those who don't know, side streets are homebased machinics. I haven't slept much, am wondering if this is the best option, and if I am thinking clearly.
Three thoughts go through my head...Am I taking care of myself here? Are my boobs still showing? Remember, I can always pull out.
The rest of the day is hews of exhaustion. I get back in time from dropping the car off at the side street Machanic to go to meeting number two of the day. This one is for the Mental Health Parity Project I am working on. Lets just say, I am no where closer to understanding... but for the first time I let go. I tell my partner...I tell her I don't know what I am doing and ask for help. We set up a game plan.
Side Street calls me, I need a part...he has no pullys. Side Street's wife calls around and lets me know where the cheapest part is and tells me. At this moment, I feel as though the day has kissed my forhead. I don't know these people...they could screw me, but instead they extend themselves beyond words. I ask one more favor from my project partner...to drive me to buy the part. She agrees and understands. Its so much easier to give then receive. To be honest I worry she'll judge me, then push it away as TRUST sinks into my head. I remembered telling someone this week, "sometimes its just as important to receive as it is to give." I go with it.
Policy partner drops me off, with part, at Side Street's house. He tells me it will take an hour, I looked tired and to go home and sleep. SLEEP feels like a foreign word...somewhere I lost track of caring about myself today. I shake it, and remind myself to trust. Today is an autopilot kind of day and am going to take my cues from those around.
I go home and sleep...two hours later Side Street is calling me to say the car is ready. The cost is so cheap for the service, I intend to go to him from now on. I get the car, I tell Side Street and his wife how grateful I am. "You don't know me, yet you helped me out." These are the moments in life that make life worth it. I am now eating at the coffee shop and beginning another project to do. I call my father, Notre Dame is up by a point (WTF), and he loves me. I'm 29 years old and I still appreciate it when he tells me this.
This has been the best autopilot day ever!
Thank you Tow Truck Dude, Side Street and Lady Side Street...and Dad Project Partner & One of Two!
Call the one of two car people I know directly in town, leave a message and cancel out on my 11am Liaison meeting. Fuck! So I go to bed.
Get woken up by wonderful one of two car people I know and she can't help me, but recommends an auto store. In this whole process I have been consulting with my Dad, he is as supportive as he can be 159 miles away. I can tell he loves me, even if he is as shocked as I am that I don't know more car people. I think he thinks because I am a lesbian, car fixin' chicks should be a staple. I don't question. I offer up that I may not know car people, but if you ever need to organize a peaceful community organized event, I know a whole bunch of dykes who could pull it off! Now, tell me that's not useful. I try to remember this while feelings of pissed off helplessness flow through me. I count my blessings. I can only remember two.
Get a corner away from the autopart place...my gages begin to dance...ironically to the beat of both my heart and tummy, so I pull off at a Truck Company. No comment here because it could be construed as slander...I'll just say fucking gas guzzling ass holes.
Call tow truck at 1pm while Gas guzzling ass holes watch, complete with someone looking at my boob. I scratch it with my middle finger (I tell myself this is not the best of me, even if I feel sadistically in control while boob freak's eyes flutter away.)...get a guy coming out to tow. Go out to the car, take out the lap top and begin to ball hysterically while I write a personal journal entry. It has more cuss words and graffic images I won't post here. Lets just say, it was not my finest 1/2 hour. Parts of me I try to love, but really just live with.
Tow truck dude looks at the car...says its the pully...I make him prove it. I now need to take it to the shop. I would get it back by Monday possibly, $200 out of pocket, if Iwas lucky. Then in the process of taking me home and finding out tow truck dude and I have much in common, tow truck dude has an idea....
I am taken to a side street machinic - retired master machanic or so he says. For those who don't know, side streets are homebased machinics. I haven't slept much, am wondering if this is the best option, and if I am thinking clearly.
Three thoughts go through my head...Am I taking care of myself here? Are my boobs still showing? Remember, I can always pull out.
The rest of the day is hews of exhaustion. I get back in time from dropping the car off at the side street Machanic to go to meeting number two of the day. This one is for the Mental Health Parity Project I am working on. Lets just say, I am no where closer to understanding... but for the first time I let go. I tell my partner...I tell her I don't know what I am doing and ask for help. We set up a game plan.
Side Street calls me, I need a part...he has no pullys. Side Street's wife calls around and lets me know where the cheapest part is and tells me. At this moment, I feel as though the day has kissed my forhead. I don't know these people...they could screw me, but instead they extend themselves beyond words. I ask one more favor from my project partner...to drive me to buy the part. She agrees and understands. Its so much easier to give then receive. To be honest I worry she'll judge me, then push it away as TRUST sinks into my head. I remembered telling someone this week, "sometimes its just as important to receive as it is to give." I go with it.
Policy partner drops me off, with part, at Side Street's house. He tells me it will take an hour, I looked tired and to go home and sleep. SLEEP feels like a foreign word...somewhere I lost track of caring about myself today. I shake it, and remind myself to trust. Today is an autopilot kind of day and am going to take my cues from those around.
I go home and sleep...two hours later Side Street is calling me to say the car is ready. The cost is so cheap for the service, I intend to go to him from now on. I get the car, I tell Side Street and his wife how grateful I am. "You don't know me, yet you helped me out." These are the moments in life that make life worth it. I am now eating at the coffee shop and beginning another project to do. I call my father, Notre Dame is up by a point (WTF), and he loves me. I'm 29 years old and I still appreciate it when he tells me this.
This has been the best autopilot day ever!
Thank you Tow Truck Dude, Side Street and Lady Side Street...and Dad Project Partner & One of Two!
posted by GoGo | 6:41 PM
4 Comments:
"Three thoughts go through my head...Am I taking care of myself here? Are my boobs still showing? Remember, I can always pull out."
OK, the first time I read this, I thought you meant you could pull your breasts out. But, hey, I would do a lot for cheap auto work too...
Corrections. I can always pull out of the arrangement.
I don't use my breast or any part of my body for cheap service...
Las Vegas is lonely and hard. i read your words and i want to be a better person. your always pushing the +s.
i miss your breasts too :-)
You so know how to embarass me, don't you, T? Sending good vibes your way. Hope Vegas gets easier
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