Two Divided by Zero
May 4th, 2008
Woodstock is one of the most beautiful towns in the entire state of Vermont. It’s quaint, it’s perfect for antiquing and it’s … well, it’s idyllic. It is. You should go there.
But OMG, YOU GUYS. It is also home to a Mobil gas station where I witnessed an employee named Tanya exit the restroom after a lengthy stay (I was waiting desperately. Thanks, Tanya!) with an US Weekly in her hand, all wrinkly and pored over and dog eared. And then … and then she PUT IT BACK ON THE SHELF. Leah warned us of this behavior in bookstores a while back, where it’s bad enough, but at a GAS STATION ON ROUTE 4. NO. NO, TANYA. EW.
Also, why is Tanya wanting to take that much time in the gas station bathroom? I know she works there, but OMG, TANYA. SO GROSS. POOP AND RUN, TANYA.
Anyway, High School Musical was as advertised: Confusing, hilarious, a little bad and all around wonderful. I’m pulling an auntie and swearing that my nephews were the best actors in the whole bunch (THEY TOTALLY WERE) (AM NOT BIASED). Granted, it was a bit uncomfortable even for the brief hour we sat there, because we were crammed into seats designed for elementary schoolers. I guess I should be grateful that I didn’t have my dad’s seat, however, for apparently he was stuck next to a kindergartener with a flatulence problem.
“Her legs were up on the seat for maximum dispersion,” he shook his head sadly. “It got worse every time she sang along and I think the guy in front of us thought it was me.”
Nothing is worse than being accused of a fart you didn’t commit, I agree.
My dad also, by the way, in a futile effort to prove that he is still hip, defended against our assaults and announced Sunday morning that he knows PRECISELY who Angelina Jolie is, he just “can’t think of any of her songs right now, but I’ve heard her on the radio!”
For a few brief hours Saturday, my ATM card was AWOL, and I had absolutely no idea where I’d left it. Despite retracing my steps, I could NOT figure out where it could be (Trader Joe’s? The play?), and every second that I paused to think about it to say, tear apart my purse and/or car, my mother stood in the background piping up, “Ka-CHING! That’s someone using your card for illegal porn! CANCEL IT NOW! KA-CHING!” which resulted in my sister and me whining “Mo-OM! Sto-OP!” in tandem for the first time since we all lived under the same roof.
(“Ka-CHING!”)
(ARGH! Mo-OM!)
Incidentally, I’d left it at the Taco Bell drive-thru, a trip for post-baseball tacos for the kids that I’d forgotten I’d even MADE. Also, the manager almost didn’t give me the card back when I insisted that my name was Jonna R-, and he had a card for JOANNA R-, which of course he didn’t, he was simply reading it wrong. And what are the chances, Mr. Taco Bell Manager, that TWO Jonna/Joannas with the same not-totally-common last name left their Citizen’s Gold Mastercard CheckCard at the Taco Bell Drive-Thru that day? SERIOUSLY.
And with that, I’m exhausted and it’s almost time for bed. I like road-tripping by myself, if only so that I can stop to pee without any argument (“But you JUST WENT!”) and have the entire bag of Combos (Pizzeria Pretzel is my flavor) to myself. I can also blast whatever music I want, and play a little game with myself, wherein I refuse to skip any tracks unless they are TRULY abysmal, which meant I listened to the entire Pet Shop Boys’ album, Please, along with some ancient New Order and yes … John Cougar Mellencamp. I also wished more than once for a bullhorn so that I could announce “Yes, I have Florida plates, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know how to drive in Massachusetts! SO BACK OFF, ASSHOLE!”
(I still totally have Florida plates. And license. I have to fix it, I know.)
I hope you had a great weekend. Happy new week to you! Who’s excited for a week of boob-stabbing and (new!) gynecologists (who might have drugs and tests and help!)? WHOOO?
*PSB. From Please!
Entry Filed under: Nuttin'
12 Comments Add your own
1. Jess | May 4th, 2008 at 6:29 pm
I bet Tanya wasn’t pooping. She was just hiding in the bathroom with Us Weekly so she could read in peace and not have to work. It’s tough going when you work in a gas station and want to take a break in peace, I bet.
2. jonniker | May 4th, 2008 at 6:30 pm
I didn’t mean to go there, but here I am: I had to pee after Tanya. Tanya was totally pooping.
3. Angella | May 4th, 2008 at 6:47 pm
Tanya was TOTALLY pooping.
This is also why I no longer buy magazines in the store. I just subscribe. Then I do not have to fear purchasing magazines that have been in the pooper. And possibly covered with fecal matter.
4. natalie | May 4th, 2008 at 7:38 pm
OMG, I honeymooned in Woodstock, Vermont!!! We LOVED IT THERE!!! It is so cute and quaint and beautiful!!!
5. vague | May 4th, 2008 at 8:41 pm
Do you always eat Combos on road trips? For some reason I always do, and that is the ONLY time I eat them. I mean, they never, ever enter my house, just my car. Weird, right? Also the pizza flavor. Mmmm. I feel like a road trip right now.
Also, in spite of the magazine transgression (you poop with it, you buy it, right?), I feel bad for Tanya. Having to poop at the workplace is bad enough, but if you work in a gas station? Ack!
6. Shelly | May 5th, 2008 at 5:30 am
Tanya’s ‘problem’ probably occured because of the gas station food she most certainly eats. After a while it’s GOT to mess with the digestion, you know?
When do you go to your doctor? I’ll think of you…….
Even worse than kindergarten farts that you MAY be blamed for is getting on a TOTALLY smelly elevator ALONE….then have others join you on other elevator stops. Try to explain THAT one…..at least your dad could quietly point at the baby farter, and give reasonable doubt that it COULD be another person. Stuck in a fart-laden elevator, that YOU didn’t stink up, then having others get on, is just impossible to try to explain….
7. jonniker | May 5th, 2008 at 5:36 am
Vague: I always eat Combos on the road, yes. And ONLY on the road. Only!
Also, I, too, feel for Tanya and really, it’s not that she had to poop at the gas station AT ALL. I mean, we ALLL have to poop at the workplace, whether we like it or not (who likes it?)
It’s the MAGAZINE. THE MAGAZINE. Totally fine to READ the magazine, it’s just that you DO NOT PUT THE MAGAZINE BACK ON THE SHELF.
8. Jamie | May 5th, 2008 at 6:05 am
omg – pizzeria pretzel combos, new order, pet shop boys, taco bell…it’s like you’re inside my head!
9. Inzaburbs | May 5th, 2008 at 7:42 am
I have very rarely pooped in the workplace.
And certainly never with a magazine.
Actually, I rarely find time to poop at all
But ewwwwww jonniker, why why why? The images you have left me with this morning…
10. Shelly | May 5th, 2008 at 8:08 am
Sorry to butt in here, again….but it’s funny how people have poop at work issues. One of my best girlfriends never poops anywhere but home. Me, on the other hand, have public restroom issues in a BIG way, but I also have tummy issues in a BIG way, and hey…sometimes a girl can’t wait…..so I probably would be mortified to poop at someone’s home—because it’s so OBVIOUS, but in a public bathroom where one can remain somewhat anonymous….that’s ok.
11. Andrea | May 5th, 2008 at 10:34 am
So, um, I guess you got your car back from the moving debacle?
And Tanya, that’s so bad. Really. You should be reading Star or even The Enquirer in the gas station bathroom. US Weekly is reserved for bathrooms inside grocery stores or a Target. You’re totally crossing the magazine class line, taking it into the gas station bathroom.
And no, you don’t put it back on the shelf.
Mmmm, combos.
12. Jessica | May 8th, 2008 at 9:51 am
I used to love pizzeria pretzel, but now there is a new flavor that is SO good. the nacho cheese/ salsa flavor…. It’s l ike a tortilla outside with a salsa cheesiness inside. SO good.
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