Wednesday, April 25, 2012

car shopping...barely


I know, get rid of my car?  How can I even consider it?!  But it's true, I have been thinking about upgrading the car show to something with a backseat.  It hasn't helped that my car has starting making a shrill high pitched whistling noise.  Elliot said that it was probably that my belt was put on too tight which would make sense as that was the last mechanical thing I had done to my car so while it's not anything wrong with my car it sounds really terrible.  Especially in the parking garage at work, I am so ashamed coming around the corner and having everyone looking to see who's janky car sounds like it's about to explode.

It kind of goes away after it gets warmed up at least but what's weird is that it will randomly make these kind of sing song noises while I'm driving and I literally have to turn down the mariah because I can't tell if it's the music or my car.  It's weirdly always in the same range as her soprano.

So anyways, Heather went car shopping with me yesterday.  I really just wanted to take a look at different things and maybe drive a few, no big deal.  Heather wanted to take pictures of me in all of the different cars so I could post them for everyone to vote on which car I looked the best in.  Unfortunately I only ever ended up test driving one car as NOBODY WANTED TO HELP US AT ANY CAR DEALERSHIP.

Well that's not entirely true, the man at the Toyota dealership pulled up in his golf cart and said, "afternoon ladies, can I help you with anything" at which point Heather doubled over in laughter and I said blankly, "no, thanks" which is when he realized that I was not a lady and said, "ok then, have a good day" and drove away.

Otherwise though it was impossible to get any help at any of the other dealerships we went to except of course the BMW one.  I drove a really fancy SUV that was way out of my price range but it was so cool!!  It had the key where you just keep in your pocket and the car just knows.

Feeling like we at least accomplished some part of our goal for the day we decided that we could go and have lunch.  Heather took me to South Port Raw Bar for lunch which is apparently only for "in the know" ft. lauderdale residents so don't go spreading it around.  As usual, Heather spent much of our lunch taking personal phone calls, so I decided to take pictures of her being rude and ignoring me.


Apparently Heather's friends don't believe that I'm real and many of my coworkers ask me what Heather looks like so I'm at least doing my part to prove I'm not making up friends.


And you can really get a feel for what it's like to hang out with Heather from these pictures.  Namely, she ignores you while she talks to her friends about you as if you're not sitting across the table from her.


If I squint my eyes I can pretend I'm having lunch with Lindsay Lohan.

After lunch we drove through the adjacent neighborhood and ogled all the huge houses and opulent landscaping.  The problem is that afternoon activities like that with the top down are exactly why I don't want to get rid of my car.

We had talked about continuing our car shopping but instead ended up doing this all afternoon:


It enraged Heather that I was better at pool than her but then I kept scratching on the 8 so she would get to victory dance by default.  Then I would call her Minnesota Fats and she would get mad that I was calling her fat.  For your reference Heather:


But still, he had nothing on our girl Heather.  When she would actually hit the cue ball instead of the 1, she wasn't half bad.


Of course, she only won by default.  Well, we ended up playing a tie breaker final game but neither of us can remember who won that one.  Which means we will have to have a rematch.

As it was though we had already overstayed our welcome.  In fact, I literally just remembered that I got a parking ticket last night for overstaying my meter which I had completely forgotten about.  Both the meter and the subsequent ticket.

I guess this was the start of our slow descent in to madness.  The rest of the evening is a blur for both of us.  We have been piecing together the evening all morning now, which is why I'm kind of amazed that I am still remembering things I forgot like the parking ticket.

Of all the things I forgot though, finding these pictures on my phone were really the highlight of my morning:






I would like to take this opportunity to say that the reason Heather won't take yoga with me is because she refuses to do backbends.  I guess when it's a dance party with the detective she doesn't mind though.

Neither of us remember this dance party at all.  It must have been before we decided to go back out.  Our intention was to walk across the bridge and go to the strip club but of course things got complicated.  Just after we had passed by the gate for the drawbridge they started the lights and bells and whatnot to say that the bridge was going to go up.  Since we had already passed the gate and they hadn't even started to go down yet I decided to just walk briskly to the other side.  Heather decided to stop and begin furiously booty dancing.  Why?  I don't know.

So I ended up having to wait on the other side of the bridge for her.  When we finally reconnected she kept trying to tell me that the bridge attendant was yelling at me for crossing the bridge and I kept trying to explain that he was yelling at her to get off the bridge and stop booty dancing.  It wasn't until this morning that she finally acknowledged that she didn't realize she was past the gate and that he was in fact yelling at her to stop dancing.

After all this we somehow ended up here because Heather desperately needed meatballs.  All I remember is looking down at a half eaten plate of meatballs underneath crazy flashing neon lights and thinking, "where am I, and how did I get here?"

We never ended up at the stip club but it was still an excellent way to spend a tuesday evening.  When we got back home I promptly went to sleep but Heather stayed up until the wee hours of the morning chatting with a handsome man.  I was not surprised.

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