6.02.2008

Don't Cross the Shit Line: Shit Pool at Sewer Couture

"They started off as tiny little shit larvae. And then they grew into shitapillars. A pandemic of shitapillars. Everywhere you look, shitapillars. They almost drove me over the goddamn edge, boy. I tried to exterminate 'em, I tried to put an end to the shitapillars' life cycle, but I failed. And now? Shit Moths. Every. Fucking. One of them. Shit Moths." *

Here's the brief rundown.

My store flooded three times in the last week so I'm exhausted and have seventeen hours of overtime racked up since I went back to work last Monday. Don't get me wrong, I could use the OT, but the insult to this injury?

Last night I was laying in bed enjoying one of my favorite new pasttimes--laying around in the dark staring at a wall. Anyway, my phone rang. It was Erica, and our store had flooded. Again. Whatever homes, no big. I mean, I live like...eight blocks from work. Of course I can throw on some jeans and run down there. No prob.

When we arrived around 11:30, we saw a shitpool of such a magnitude that no previously recorded shitstorm or shitblizzard had ever produced that much shit-devastation. One of the shitspoils? Three pairs of my favorite flats that I keep under my locker including...

My god, I can barely bring myself to write it down.

My favorite flats. There they were, sitting in a shit pile of water and sewage and grease. Right where I left them. Under my locker.

These were no ordinary flats, mind you. Much like Mary's famed Black nappa leather Reppetto flats that where stolen by a fucking shit whore who shall remain nameless, these were my favorite shoes. My black and white canvas pointy-toe Mia flats were a part of me--I bought them over a year ago and I wore them with everything. I loved them.
Unfortunately, they are now covered in toxic sewage water, never again to be worn.

Before you say anything, I already checked. Even eBay. They are discontinued, and I will never again have a pair.

But hey, as they say: If you love something, let it go.

Conveniently, my company is re-imbursing me for all three pairs plus my Chuck Taylors tahat I waded through three inches of standing sewage in, so letting them go is easier than it could be. I replaced them today with a matte-grey leather cut-inset pointy toe flats that will suffice. I also got a black pair and a pair of black patent round-toe flats to replace my favorite silver ones. And I got a gangsta-clean new pair of Chucks. Cool. I can deal, no big.

But seriously, my favorite shoes are already gone--and I just can't let go of anything else.

Say what you will and call me anything you like, but I just can't live in a world where I lose any chance I might have had of ever sleeping, four pounds, my favorite flats, and the best sex I've ever had all in the span of a week.

My flats are gone for good, but I have no other choice but to be optimistic that my phone will ring any minute.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to sleep now. And no, I haven't changed my sheets yet.

Tomorrow, when I have slept, and the shitnami has subsided, I'll change them. I promise.
--M

*thanks to my favorite Canadians and their constant shitnanigans for this quote.

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