I don’t cuss. Except for the words “hell” (that’s a place), and “damn” (that can also kind of be a place? Okay, not really).On April 2, I had a few more choice words to add to my vocabulary.
When Jose arrived on Thursday afternoon to head out to celebrate his birthday, it was about 6PM, I had no clue what we were doing, so I had no clue what to put on. Good thing to as he changed his mind 5 times when he walked in the apt.
Now people who know me, know I often struggle making up my mind, especially when it concerns what we are going to do RIGHT NOW. As usually, there are ump-teen million things we could do. I do well with people who are a little more decisive… or maybe more decision focused than me. I can come up with 500 things to choose from, its deciding amongst the options I cant choose. Put me and someone like me in a room, and we are going nowhere too quickly.
We did not leave until almost 7PM.
We were headed to the old city, or so we thought.
After a lengthy discussion with my mom the night before, I now knew how to find reverse in the tiny Volkswagon Golf Jose had me rent – even though the diagram on the gear shift was of no use whatsoever.
I quickly realized Jose’s attention to detail had not improved in the past 24 hours. He directed the car as he would direct a taxi, and I quickly let him know that he better get it together if he wanted to find his “old city” as I was “no taxi driver” and did not appreciate being made to feel like one.
He kept mentioning this place was great for drinks, lots of bars, etc… I was going to lose it. Just who did he think was driving home? By this point, I had realized that not only did he not own a car, he had no clue how to drive one.
The idea of going bar hopping in the old city was a nice one. He posed it for my benefit. But the reality is, I am half his size, driving a piece of crap in a foreign country where I don’t exactly speak the language, and “bar hopping” just really did not feel like a practical option right then.
THEN THE UNTHINKABLE HAPPENS.
Jose yells “parking spot!!!” while waving like a madman… I veer the piece of shit car into said spot… on a downward slope, and it dies when I try to reverse. When I analyze the logistics of making this work – ie, my parallel parking skills (which by the way, I failed my drivers test the first time because I CANT PARALLEL PARK… and only passed the second time when I promised never to attempt it in the real world), and stupid 5-speed we had, and the downhill status. This was just an accident waiting to happen. Literally.
I look at Jose and tell him I can’t do this. I can’t get into the spot. I can’t get out. We are stuck. I am in mild panic state as I don’t know Canary Island parking laws or what happens if I hit a cars bumper or worse. He looks at me and says the MOST ASSANINE thing I have ever heard “Dear, take your flowers.” Was he fucking kidding? I am in the middle of a traffic jam, in the middle of a parking spot, in the middle of rush hour, and he wanted me to take some stupid flower essence???!!
I lose it with idiots like this. All reality has been tossed out the window. No regard for traffic violations, frustrations caused to others, or potential accidents… the one only focus is on their chosen remedy for life. In his case, Bach flowers.
Now, its no secret that I love “new age” or “old age” (depending on how you look at it) wisdom. I love reading my horoscope, I love knowing my numerology, I love people reading my palm, I love reading tarot cards… I love consulting these people but I don’t lead my life based on it. Sometimes it fits, sometimes it doesn’t. You go from there. The fact that Jose was suggesting I ingest flowers to help us get the car out of this compromised position was the most ABSURD thing I could possibly listen too. Come on, man, take some responsibility! If I drink the whole bottle of Bach flower, the car is still stuck. Lets focus on REAL remedies. Like you stopping traffic so I can get the car going correctly, or something that did not involve plant matter. Dear. God. I was ready to shoot this Canary.
When the car was unstuck and panic had dissipated (mostly), Jose thought it wise to give me a lecture on the purpose of Bach flower. I had about 4 minutes left in my patience before I lost it. He did not do anything to deplete my anger and instead invoked it so the following points were made (by me) in a non-subtle, non-questionable fashion:
1) He needed to grow up and learn how to be hospitable. People come to town for a vacation not to be his taxi driver.
2) IF he ever suggested Bach flower as a solution to anything other than my own personal restlessness, he would be wearing any and all forms of the flower remedy he gave me.
3) IF he ever tried to kiss me, hold my hand, etc. AGAIN he would be in the most incredible pain of his life.
I WAS FUCKING PISSED.
And you know what this idiot said? “Dear, you are so beautiful when you are angry.”
This guy obviously didn’t get it.
All I wanted him to do was drop him off in the subway station, and find my way home. Unfortunately, the islands have no subway… Argh.
So I get the car back to Calatillas, and we wander down to Candelaria, to a true Canarian restaurant beside the old Cathedral. The views were amazing, the conversation not so much. But fortunately since it was Jose’s birthday his cell phone took care of this. Every few minutes it would ring and we would again fane surprise “Caballero, como estas?!!? Mi compleanos??!!” A dei mei. The night was so young. Sadly.
Fortunately the calls kept coming in so I did not have to talk to him. I was so irritated. But I did not dare tell him that.
Although I must say, tonight I was getting my own award of “Most Ill behaved on a Date”. I was not really aiding the situation to shift to something more positive. I could not believe this turkey... or canary, or truly, DoDo.
Oh, but then he became a genius. “Dear, you are very upset. (really, did he just now figure this out?) I am going to give you some nice reiki when we get back to the apartment!” (while rubbing his hands together like he was getting ready to devour a steak. Gross.) He thought this was a fabulous idea. I thought it sucked.
And in simple English, I told him this.
When I am irritated, I do not like to be around the source of my irritation. (does anyone?)
He slowly got it, and I went to fetch la cuenta. And although I was pissed, it was his birthday, and this old man was not paying for his own bday dinner.
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