So I'm about to go out of town for a few weeks, but before I go I thought I'd share this story that just happened to me. I still haven't finished packing, by the way, so I'm pretty much just gonna run through this and hope you can keep up. Ready?
OK, this story takes place on Monday, just after Coachella (which by the way, was an absolute blast and I plan on sharing that whole experience with you soon). So anyways, I have left Coachella that morning with my two new friends/camping companions. All three of us are filthy and tired, as we had just spent the last three days camping in the desert and partying our asses off (again, it was a crazy time, I can't wait to tell you about it).
Anyways, as you can imagine, being filthy and tired, we all desperately want to go back to our respective homes and shower and sleep. But first we have to make the drive back, which normally only takes about 2 and a half hours. Unless, of course, you're an overconfident moron, like me, and assume you know the way back without double checking first. Then it takes four hours.
So, after the four longest hours of my life, where by the end of it I'm so tired I want to cry a little and I can feel that my fellow companions want to strangle me, I finally find the way back to Los Angeles and drop the girls off at their hostel. Then I head as fast as I can back to my apartment.
I'm only five sweet blocks away from salvation when a thought hits me. I'm absolutely starving. I have to eat something before I sleep or I'll be miserable all day. I curse out loud at this thought because I know damn well I don't have a thing to eat back home, which means I'll have to make a trip to the store. And right now, the thought of going to the store is so horrible it makes me want to murder somebody. But there's nobody in the car except me and my growling stomach, so I curse again and head to the nearest store.
I find the first available parking spot and quickly park. I rush into the store, buy a couple of frozen pizzas and head back to the car. I go to throw the pizzas in the back seat of my car, and that's when I see it.
Apparently one of the girls had opened up a rather sizable container of peanuts and put it on that back space that's behind the back seats (I don't know what you call that area, back windowsill area? I don't know, back the fuck off me.)
Anyways, apparently the lid was never put back on the peanut container, and now the peanuts were fucking everywhere. This enrages me because back when I recently bought this car it was in practically mint condition, despite the fact that it was ten years old. I had vowed to keep it in the same condition for as long as possible. For the most part, I had kept true to my word. But this Coachella trip had definitely left its mark on my car, and I wasn't not too thrilled about that. And now, seeing hundreds and hundreds of peanuts (that may be an exaggerated figure, it's hard to tell with peanuts) covering the back windowsill area at this particular moment just really fires me up. Those peanuts must go now.
So I jump into the back seat and start flinging peanuts out of my car like some kind of super hero. But I soon realize this is very tiring and not very effective (keep in mind, I am a very weak and impatient man at this point). So I try a different approach. To conserve strength, I decide to throw all the peanuts in the container first and then throw the whole mess out at once.
So I start doing this, but I soon realize this is just as slow and ineffective as the last method. In fact, at this point I have determined that picking up peanuts, in general, is tiring and tedious, no matter what method you use. This realization frustrates me and causes me to empty the peanuts container out onto the parking lot even though it's only half full and thus accomplishes nothing(again I was very tired at the time).
As I do this, I somehow let the container fall out of my hands and onto the pavement. This makes me furious, and a mutter obscenities and jumped out of my car to get the container. But as I do this I end up bashing my head on the edge of the window, hard.
Now my head is throbbing and I am completely and utterly overcome with fury. I show this by screaming "Goddammit!!" loudly, and kicking the container of peanuts as hard as I can.
I watch it as it skids across the parking lot floor (while making a terrible scrapping sound along the way), and I realize it's heading straight for this nearby Hispanic family that are putting groceries in the back of their car. I watch in slow motion as the Hispanic family turn and see the container going right for them. Before they can do anything the container goes right under the old grandmother's legs and disappears under the car.
Then there is just the briefest moment where we all just stand there and wonder what to do next. Then I see the man ( a big man, I might add) walk towards me in an intimidating way. I shout, "Oh I'm sorry! That wasn't meant for you! Honest!" And then I jump in my car and drive off. I eventually got home and went to sleep, but my car still smells like peanuts.
(I bet that made you want to read about the rest of my Coachella adventure, right?! No, not really, you say? Well, trust me, you wrong. And you're gonna see how wrong you are... but not for a couple of weeks. Bye! I gotta fucking finish packing already!)