So often I go throughout my day forgetting to breathe. I either forget that I am breathing, or forget to breathe entirely, find myself holding the air in as moments tick by, it escapes in a loud whooooosssssh, and it isn’t until that second where I think “I’ve been holding my breath.” Today, I realized I’ve been holding my breath with the whole car thing. I finally let out that whooooosh as I handed my keys over to the manager at Beverly Hills Benz, as he smiled at me, shook my hand, and said “Shit happens kid…I hope 2010 is a better year for you.” I told him I’m sure it will be, thanked him and left. I’d been holding my breath the whole time.
I played the shoulda woulda could game with myself walking out with Deezy, who treated me to a celebratory hot dog and some terrible onion rings. The guy behind the counter tried to explain that the onion rings were terrible, but we were determined to have rings so nothing he said sunk in.
Us: Do you have onion rings?
Him: Yeah, I got em. I make em, so I should know. I don’t make them if nobody orders them though, barely make onion rings at all. But I got em.
When the rings came out, it was obvious why nobody orders them… they tasted like onions wrapped in donut skin…but not in the good way a donut lover like myself would imagine. It all seemed the perfect conclusion to my call with the insurance company, with the woman asking me why exactly I had to surrender my car. After explaining about the lack of money to pay the thousand dollar a month payment, my current status as a recovering pornstar, the economic downturn and my new found love of public transportation, she apologized and said she’s required to ask just in case it was because of a DUI. Thank god that’s not the case I laughed. She laughed too, the tension quickly eased. Deezy is a good friend, he was there for me last night when I first attempted the repo, and stuck beside me though the successful surrender today. He said he holds his breath too. Perhaps it’s a sign of the times.
We did laundry this morning at our local wash spot. A gentleman came in dressed in washed out jeans, a faux furry jacket, cowboy boots and a bleached blond tuft on 1/4 of his head. He smelled like the onion rings we ate later in the day, and it made sense that today was his laundry day as well. When he put his clothes in the washer, he took of his jeans, threw them in as well, and walked around in his boxer shorts for the rest of the time. He walked over to Rite Aid, purchased cigars, and returned, still in his drawers. I was in my laundry clothes too… and have taken off my bra in the laundry mat upon remembering it needs to be washed. So I understand where he is coming from. He laughed at the clothes as they spun in the washer, and even more when they spun in the dryer, and all I could think of was Rain Man, “The red one always falls the same.” I’m sure the guy had an interesting story, but I was too self consumed to ask.
I dropped the car off, taking one last picture in it, to remind myself of all the good times I’ve had in that beast. This is when the shoulda woulda coulda game came into play. If I’d surrendered my car back when I knew I couldn’t afford it, I would already be in a new car, with a reasonable payment, not worrying about how to bike the 10 miles to therapy once a week. If I’d never gotten into a unreasonable car in the first place, I’d still have the BMW, it would be paid off, and I could laugh at the thought of paying a thousand a month. If I hadn’t been stoned when I signed the agreement, maybe I would have had the wits to figure out that a five year contract at a thousand a month exceeds what the car is to purchase. If, I shoulda, I would, blahblahblahblah. None of that shit matters, and I can shoulda woulda coulda myself to death. The truth of the matter is that everything happens for a reason, and this is a big reminder of how important it is to not let my pride get in the way of what’s important~ like surviving life.
Tomorrow is Monday and everybody I know goes back to the daily grind. The holiday season is over, Deezy is back at work, my boy on the westside is back at work, Angel goes back to work, all the people I love and play with return to the 9-5 that supports them throughout the year. I’m feeling a bit selfish. I don’t want Deezy to go back to work, I want to play video games with him all day and eat meatloaf. I don’t want Angel to go back to work, I don’t want my boy to go back to work. I want them all to stay at home and play with me. Silly silly girl. Just going to laugh that one off and let it go.
So tomorrow is officially my first day sans car. I have therapy in Beverly Hills at 3, will be riding my bike there. I need to hit the bank, also a bike trip. I need I need I need. I don’t really need anything, except a To Do list that will help me feel accomplished. Feels good to check things off. Feels good to take a breath. Time to research the bus schedule…. Look out LA public transportation. Here. I. Come.