Apologies to U2… but it’s all I’ve got. It’s been an eventful first three hours of 2008, starting with W. inching closer to me to avoid the voluminous ass of the drunk woman “dancing” in his face in the VIP balcony at the Metro during the Spoon show (which totally rocked). And then we walked south toward Addison to see if I could catch a cab…. which never happened. I hopped on the Clark bus with W. (the only other option was becoming enraged by the rather annoying drunk women lining the streets — and, uh, what’s up with not wearing any outerwear? if you go out in the snow without a coat, you deserve
not to get a cab just because you’re whining…), where this rather amusing woman asked if we were married, which caused me to laugh so hard I just about cried. And it was even funnier when W. almost actually did propose, but then stopped himself, claiming I’m the sister he never had — and, you know, since we’re not in Arkansas or Tennessee, that pretty much puts the kabosh on any shenanigans such as those. I got off the bus in Andersonville, thinking it would be easier to find a cab there than Wrigleyville, and it was, but only after a cab stopped for me and these two women STOLE my cab, at which point the following “conversation” transpired:
Me: Thanks a lot.
Them: You’re welcome.
Me: Are you so stupid that you cannot detect sarcasm?
Them: Uh, sure.
Me: And rhetorical questions are over your head, too?
Me: Whatever. Thanks a lot.
So, okay… the evening didn’t end as, uh, soberly as it might have. But I did end up in a cab of my own shortly thereafter, and I gave the cab driver $10 for a $5 fare (hey, it’s New Year’s and drunk people suck!) and now I’m home watching even more of the Law and Order: Criminal Intent marathon that’s been on since at least 11am yesterday (when I first began tuning in) and engaging in a probably rather fruitless pondering of whether Vincent D’Onofrio is single and, if he is, whether I’m his type. Happy New Year.