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Shaken and stirred.
Oct. 18th, 2003 09:48 amLast night was NOT fun. First of all I got the taxi-ride from hell! This curly blonde 18-year old Hercules stood at my door to pick me up, being all posh and "look at me I'm so gorgeous" [well that set my mood, he was too self-conscious to actually be pretty, and I disliked his lower jawbone]. He was pretty early but not too early, it was four pm, and I had to be at work at five. But as soon as I sat in the big bus, we went rollercoaster-style through Veenendaal, bumping speed bumps, barely avoiding cars. After another half hour the cab picked up two more passengers, one in a wheelchair, and we set a course to Ede. Well, fuck that, though the road was nice, and I never knew the Gelderse Vallei countryside was this beautiful, I'd rather have enjoyed the narrow curved roads lined with trees by bike, then at 80 kph in a taxi-bus that could have intercepted the oncoming traffic which would be hidden from view until mere moments before impact.
After we dropped off the other two passengers in Ede and Bennekom, we drove to the heather, in the general direction of Gon. Erik called me to see where I was, and indeed, it was already a quarter past five when we finally arrived. When the last passenger had exited, I had politely tried to point out that maybe for the elderly (who use those buses more often) it was not as much fun to be sitting in a shaking bus while their internal organs were being shuffled like a deck of cards. Once we finally arrived at Gon, and he had not changed his attitude nor his manner of driving the bus, and to top it all off had deleted the ride from his little computerthingy (thus making it impossible to print a receipt). Why swallow what you feel, and be miserable and mad about it for a long time?
So when he said "I just deleted the ride, I can't give you a receipt" I replied "Well, then my boss can't get a tax refund for it, which means he won't give me the money which means I can't give you any money for this ride because I'm very broke." The hatred already was - to me at least - clearly present in my voice. "Well;" he replied; "then nobody's getting out of this car."
I pressed my lips together and told myself "We'll see about that!"
In the end he gave me a mini-receipt, hopefully it would be good enough for my boss. I put it in the cash register, grabbed the 6.25 I owed the driver, and walked back to the bus.
"Let me just state;" the cold undeniable hatred now was overly present in my voice; "that this was the worst ride I have ever had in almost two years with the regional taxi, and that I truly hope to never have you as a driver again." I pushed the money in his hand. "My father is a reckless driver and that means I am quite used to something, but the way you drive has made me sick to my stomach and in fear of my life." Then, I added in the lovely cynical tone I have used on my father numerous times in the past, the voice of cynicism and cold hatred "Have a nice day at work, and enjoy your weekend."
I slammed the door shut and set my shoulders in the true "proud noble"-way, and strode inside, feeling like miss Break-a-Nail in some extent.
That was just the beginning of the evening. It promised to be a quiet night, not many guests, and I offered my services to the kitchen. I helped out in front first, and with Daphne gossiped about table 5 and 6, a group of youngsters. The type I have seen plenty since I was sixteen, the type I came to fear and even - at rare times - loathe. The guys and their girlfriends were nearing their mid-twenties, and their attitude concerned only beer, cars and sex, or something. I do not think I understand their ways, and therefore I can probably not even judge it either.
In any case, one of the men, seated at table six, was trying to get Daphne to fancy him, because his girlfriend had left him earlier. Daphne, like me, is quite 'taken', and has no desire to be hit on by some weird guest at the restaurant. So when I helped her out and brought a round of beer to the men, he tried to hit on me as well. Daphne was standing behind the bar (quite close) and I could her hear laugh audibly when I replied [in my most genuine ironic tone] to the guy's advances: "All the girls here already have boyfriends, and as far as I know all of the guys too, so I'm quite sorry we can't help you out today."
Later on, the boys tried to get my attention even more and they asked me whether or not I had a boyfriend already. "For your information, I have a boyfriend, yes, and he lives in Rotterdam." "Oh, then it takes a long time before he gets over here!" the men snickered. I was quite done with being polite. "Well, he has a green belt in taijutsu, and we practice together." The boys snickered some more (remind me never to argue with drunks again) "that just makes my boxers brown....hahahahah!" [not funny]
I was not amused. Especially when the dude when they left, walked back to me, and stated: "I practice kickboxing and tae kwondo, and I gave my girlfriend such bruises when she tried to leave me, so I was not impressed." He looked at me with a grin, and though I was not at all impressed by what he said, the tone of his voice did not betray the interpretation I had of his words. It was almost as if he was threatening me!
So not amused. I was fairly ready to break his jaw, if his meaning had been less...hidden. Then again, that must be Anna still being with me a bit there.
But we were finished early, and I comforted myself with the sheer knowledge that I had Stitches and Jinx to come home to, if Pain and Flux did not protect me enough. Ever since NoKey sharpened Stitches, I am more smitten with this athame then ever. She has a nice spot in my book cupboard, which is a treat to the eyes: books all over her shelves. The top shelf holds my best treasures: Eddings, Jordan, and Tolkien. The rest of the shelves are filled with my numerous other books, and on the lowest shelf are my videotapes.
Soon, I will manage it so that my computer will go upstairs with my desk. YAY!
After we dropped off the other two passengers in Ede and Bennekom, we drove to the heather, in the general direction of Gon. Erik called me to see where I was, and indeed, it was already a quarter past five when we finally arrived. When the last passenger had exited, I had politely tried to point out that maybe for the elderly (who use those buses more often) it was not as much fun to be sitting in a shaking bus while their internal organs were being shuffled like a deck of cards. Once we finally arrived at Gon, and he had not changed his attitude nor his manner of driving the bus, and to top it all off had deleted the ride from his little computerthingy (thus making it impossible to print a receipt). Why swallow what you feel, and be miserable and mad about it for a long time?
So when he said "I just deleted the ride, I can't give you a receipt" I replied "Well, then my boss can't get a tax refund for it, which means he won't give me the money which means I can't give you any money for this ride because I'm very broke." The hatred already was - to me at least - clearly present in my voice. "Well;" he replied; "then nobody's getting out of this car."
I pressed my lips together and told myself "We'll see about that!"
In the end he gave me a mini-receipt, hopefully it would be good enough for my boss. I put it in the cash register, grabbed the 6.25 I owed the driver, and walked back to the bus.
"Let me just state;" the cold undeniable hatred now was overly present in my voice; "that this was the worst ride I have ever had in almost two years with the regional taxi, and that I truly hope to never have you as a driver again." I pushed the money in his hand. "My father is a reckless driver and that means I am quite used to something, but the way you drive has made me sick to my stomach and in fear of my life." Then, I added in the lovely cynical tone I have used on my father numerous times in the past, the voice of cynicism and cold hatred "Have a nice day at work, and enjoy your weekend."
I slammed the door shut and set my shoulders in the true "proud noble"-way, and strode inside, feeling like miss Break-a-Nail in some extent.
That was just the beginning of the evening. It promised to be a quiet night, not many guests, and I offered my services to the kitchen. I helped out in front first, and with Daphne gossiped about table 5 and 6, a group of youngsters. The type I have seen plenty since I was sixteen, the type I came to fear and even - at rare times - loathe. The guys and their girlfriends were nearing their mid-twenties, and their attitude concerned only beer, cars and sex, or something. I do not think I understand their ways, and therefore I can probably not even judge it either.
In any case, one of the men, seated at table six, was trying to get Daphne to fancy him, because his girlfriend had left him earlier. Daphne, like me, is quite 'taken', and has no desire to be hit on by some weird guest at the restaurant. So when I helped her out and brought a round of beer to the men, he tried to hit on me as well. Daphne was standing behind the bar (quite close) and I could her hear laugh audibly when I replied [in my most genuine ironic tone] to the guy's advances: "All the girls here already have boyfriends, and as far as I know all of the guys too, so I'm quite sorry we can't help you out today."
Later on, the boys tried to get my attention even more and they asked me whether or not I had a boyfriend already. "For your information, I have a boyfriend, yes, and he lives in Rotterdam." "Oh, then it takes a long time before he gets over here!" the men snickered. I was quite done with being polite. "Well, he has a green belt in taijutsu, and we practice together." The boys snickered some more (remind me never to argue with drunks again) "that just makes my boxers brown....hahahahah!" [not funny]
I was not amused. Especially when the dude when they left, walked back to me, and stated: "I practice kickboxing and tae kwondo, and I gave my girlfriend such bruises when she tried to leave me, so I was not impressed." He looked at me with a grin, and though I was not at all impressed by what he said, the tone of his voice did not betray the interpretation I had of his words. It was almost as if he was threatening me!
So not amused. I was fairly ready to break his jaw, if his meaning had been less...hidden. Then again, that must be Anna still being with me a bit there.
But we were finished early, and I comforted myself with the sheer knowledge that I had Stitches and Jinx to come home to, if Pain and Flux did not protect me enough. Ever since NoKey sharpened Stitches, I am more smitten with this athame then ever. She has a nice spot in my book cupboard, which is a treat to the eyes: books all over her shelves. The top shelf holds my best treasures: Eddings, Jordan, and Tolkien. The rest of the shelves are filled with my numerous other books, and on the lowest shelf are my videotapes.
Soon, I will manage it so that my computer will go upstairs with my desk. YAY!
