I Don't Like Mondays

Man, I hate Mondays.

Let me start this article by stating that the events that transpired this weekend were very frustrating. Moving on... This Friday was my first official weekend as the Banquet Supervisor for Valley Hospital (or so I thought). It turned out that the top management has decided that there is no logical reason to train their employees before opening up another property. The fact that I am not yet listed as my hired job title left me somewhat perturbed. Overlooking the metaphorical slap in the face, I was determined to start this path on the right foot by arriving to work early.

Unfortunately, by deciding to leave an hour early, I would arrive an hour late. As fate would have it, however, there would be an accident on I-285. This accident would shut down each and every lane. If I had decided to leave an hour later, there would have been no problem; at worst, I would be a few minutes late. Unfortunately, I decided to take the path less taken. I decided to take I-75. It would be a disastrous decision. Damn you Robert Frost...

As soon as I got off of the ramp, I hit another wall of traffic. Why did I decide to take that path? The next three hours would be a mixture of anger and joy. Though I was livid about the fact that I would definitely be late, I could not help but laugh at the irony of it all. By leaving early, I would arrive late.

The next two days were of little consequence: I did miss the opportunity to go on a cruise for only fifty dollars, but I did secure a new place to live (it seems).

Part two of this saga would start on a Sunday. It would continue on a Monday. I don't like Mondays. As I finished my shift on Saturday, my boss asked me if I would tend bar for a wedding that would take place the next day. The wedding was scheduled to take place at 1:30. The bar was scheduled to open around 3:00. Without our knowledge, the wedding party decided to move the wedding to 4:30. Really?!

Even though the wedding was pushed back, I wasn't too upset. Yes, it did mean that I would get out of work much later than I had anticipated, but it seems rather callous to hold a grudge during a wedding. Anyway, the wedding was actually very sweet. It was a tiny wedding, but there was a guy who looked like Kat Williams, so it wasn't all bad. After the party died down (about five minutes after the drinks were no longer free), I was allowed to leave early.

A few days earlier, Andre "The Drizzle" Lecour had turned 23, so I had agreed to visit him in Tyrone, Ga. About twenty minutes from his house, BAM!!!!, a wall of traffic. Somewhere in the next twenty minutes, I was able to move about 3/4 of a mile and visit the house of Kevin Work. After engaging in a little small talk with his parents, I was back on the road; back to the traffic. The next hour of my life can not exactly be put into words (Just know that if it was, about 90% of the vocabulary would be bleeped out. It was bad).

Little did I know, however, that something much more sinister was occurring underneath the hood of my car...

Flash forward to Monday morning. After having a nice breakfast with "The Drizzle",it was time for me to go. I had planned on meeting up with my girlfriend for lunch (Sorry, Kevin). That would not be the case, however, as a torn radiator hose would soon become my arch nemesis. About five miles from the airport, I notice that my temperature gauge is reaching the H level pretty quickly. I soon become alarmed, and pull off of the highway. After finding a gas station, I realize the gravity of the situation. The outlook is grim. I check the engine, discover that there is no coolant in the engine, and rush to buy a gallon of water. After filling the reservoir with the water, and allowing the engine to cool, I finally discover the source of the problem. I rush back into the gas station to purchase duct tape, only to purchase an additional bag of Cheetos and Doritos.

While I was searching for the duct tape, there had been a lady who decided that two bags of chips was not enough. Delicious though they may be, she decided to leave them on the counter as she stared at her other possible options. After waiting for about two minutes for her to make her decision, I decided to pull up to the register and complete my transaction.

"That will be $5.11, sir." said the man. I was quite shocked, but I didn't care. As I was walking out of the store, he asked me if I needed a bag for the chips. I was confused. After explaining to the man that the chips were not mine, I asked the man to void the purchase. Within the next ten seconds, about six people would step in line, the lady had yet to choose her final item, and I was about to explode when the cashier said that he did not know how to void the receipt. I informed the lady that the chips were on me and walked out. I actually held together, more or less, and proceeded to drive back to Andre's house. The duct tape held together pretty well, and I may have been able to make it back to my house. Instead, I decided to try and replace the hose today.

Big mistake! Andre and I waited at the auto shop for over two hours, only to find out that the auto shop could not get the part I needed for at least two or three days. I decided to leave, and take my chances in Gwinnett. I have to re-apply the duct tape on my way out. Putting the duct tape on again proved to be more difficult the second time around, and the tape is not nearly as effective. Eventually, I have to make the choice. Risk breaking down on my way home (in rush hour traffic), or try to fix it myself.

After a few phone calls, and a lot of help from Andre's father, we buy the part ourselves. With a little bit of work, our work is done. Finally, the relief sets in, and I begin to think about how lucky I actually was.

If I had not decided to visit Andre and celebrate his birthday. My car probably would have broken down somewhere along I-285. If I had broken down in the middle of the night, there would have very little I could do. If I hadn't stopped by Kevin's house, and talked to his parents, my car could have overheated on my way to Andre's house. While the traffic did irritate me, it did prevent me from accelerating the car, which could have overheated the car. While this was still a very shitty day, it could have been much worse. In a way, even though it may seem chiche', I feel as though God was looking out for me.