I’ll be honest with you: I’m in a pissy mood. I”ve been sans vehicle for the week, which is annoying and inconvenient. (Yes, many gracious people have chauffeured me around and I am grateful, but I hate that I even have to do that.) My lovely Thursday evening plans have been derailed as my companion’s car decided to be a dick and not start. And because I don’t have a vehicle, I couldn’t be of any help at all, which makes me feel even more helpless. Blahblahbitchmoanpoorbabywhine…
So, I am trying to focus on the good parts of the day: Natty Light and the inherent hilarity of the word “balls.”
My mom had to drive me home from work today (see above reference to not having my car aaarrgghh), but that meant tagging along on her golf lesson. I hesitated until she mentioned something about beer and suddenly I was on board with this plan. (OK, I must admit that not being able to drive has pretty much been a free pass to drink a lot, which has been kind of awesome.) While she grabbed her gear and changed shoes I scoped out the beer selection and found that in addition to the usual respectable microbrews and fancypants options, they had a $1 special on Natty Light. Sold to the redhead in the business casual outfit and pink purse! I wasn’t carded (WTF?) but the cashier dude was amused at my purchase. I figured my mom would be embarrassed at my lowbrow choice, but having an aversion to beer means she doesn’t know PBR from Fat Tire. But she did appreciate my eye for value. $1 for a beer? Sweet.
Luckily, life always hands me other opportunities to embarrass my mother. Hey, she knows it’s a crapshoot with me, so don’t start feeling sorry for her.
She and a very nice co-worker signed up for the lessons together. Apparently today was rough on him because he was plowing through his bucket and whacking the ever-loving shit out each ball. She looked over at him and said, “You’re almost out of balls!” I’ll let you imagine my mature reaction to the statement. Very Nice Co-Worker and Golf Teacher-Coach either didn’t hear me or chose to ignore the giggling moron chugging shit beers. My mom shot me a typical “Mom” look that said, “You are horrifying” as well as “Please shut up NOW.”
(I also cracked myself up when the dude in the golf cart was picking up the stray balls (heh) and I flashed on that part in The Sweetest Thing when Peter and his brother (played by JASON BATEMAN) are at the driving range and trying to hit the guy, who is freaking out and drinking and yelling, “I am NOT an animal!” and then Jason Bateman’s character yells back “You’re driving right into them!” and then I realized I was laughing out loud and no one else knew why.)
On one hand I think it’s insane that at 31 I still lose my shit over things most 14 year-old boys would find amusing. On the other, I’m proud of myself for finding delight in little things even when I’m tempted to feel sorry for myself that I can’t always get what I want. We’ll call it a draw for today.