Ah, my first furloughed Friday. I know it must get better than this. Myself, I’m pretty much frustrated right now at 3:09PM. An hour ago I was feverishly trying to get in touch with my sister with regards to Leonard Cohen tickets. There was an extra show added and she asked for my help earlier this week.
So at 11:00AM PST (2:00PM EST) I was logged in trying to get tickets for Annemarie and Rex. I had her credit card info and was able to snag 2 seats in row MM in the orchestra. I tried calling her land line, busy. Tried cellphone. Voice mail, left message. Sent an email.
Finally Annemarie gets in touch with me. Turns out she was using the phone system to get tickets and no, she doesn’t have call waiting. I know it doesn’t seem like much but when spending over $200.00 of someone else’s money, you’d think to get the go ahead.
I knew how upset she was when shut out of the ticket sale last week so I went ahead and bought her tickets, which a minute later is when she called. I was frustrated with the whole thing and I don’t even like Leonard Cohen, and it wasn’t my money.
So now, Annemarie has 4 tickets to see Lenny on Tuesday, April 14 at the Paramount theater in Oakland at 8:00. She should have no problem unloading the other tickets. Then there is the additional frustration of waiting for Bill.
We had planned to be moving around 2:00PM EST to go to my office and pick up a TV and vacuum cleaner. It’s 3:16 now. I called about 45 minutes ago, still upset with the lack of communication between Annemarie and myself and left a voice mail saying I don’t need to get the TV and vacuum cleaner today. I can get them another time.
He called almost a half hour ago, not at 2:00 letting me know of his problems with the car rental. Just taking for granted again that I will wait. Non communication works so well.
After I wrote that, Bill calls saying he’s at 6th and Garden. I go to the window and watch him park the car. Surprised that he’s not coming up, I thought he needed a keyboard and a speaker from here. I call him and he says he doesn’t need anything from up here in the apartment.
I get my coat and walk down the stairs. I get in the car, obviously frustrated. He asks if I want to talk about it, so I do. As I begin to explain my frustration with him not calling me to tell me that he’s running late, he explodes.
He starts screaming at me about how I don’t understand the stress that he’s under and how he didn’t have the time to call me to say he was running late. We approach 11th street and Park Avenue when he starts yelling a few octaves higher and he starts to lean to the left as the car rolls toward the stop sign. I tell him to stop, I am getting out.
The car still rolls for a few feet before he stops. I get out and slam the door. I had never seen him like this before and to tell you the truth it was frightening. He goes off towards the Lincoln Tunnel and I walk back towards my apartment. I decide to walk down Willow Avenue, parallel to Park Avenue because I really didn’t want to see him.
By this time, the schools were letting out and I didn’t want to deal with any kids so I walk back down Park Avenue. I get a phone call. It’s Bill. He’s in front of the building. I tell him I’ll see him in a minute and hang up. There he is sitting in the car.
I keep a safe distance. He asks if I’m afraid of him and I say yes. I tell him I texted his friend Margaret, telling her that I had seen a side of him that I had never seen before and I don’t want to see it again. He then asks if it’s over between us. Always looking for the way out, like he did years ago.
For some reason I say ‘No. Do you want this over?’ and for some reason he says no.
I tell him that it would have taken maybe 20 seconds to call and say, ‘I’m running late. Chill out, ok?’ and it would have been ok. But he can’t find those 20 seconds, so pressed for time he is. I remind him that this was the same shit that he pulled last year.
We were supposed to meet at 6:00 after work to go to some goddamned function that his cousin was involved with. I get to his building and he says he’ll be right down. Stupid idiot me believes this and stands outside his office building in dress shoes and waits and waits.
Finally I get fed up after a half hour and walk over to Bryant Park and sit. Within 5 minutes he shows up and sees I’m steaming. ‘Oh it’s going to be like this all night?’ he says. I render the stock phrase, you cold have called. He goes off the handle yelling at me at the corner of 41st and Broadway.
We get into the subway, neither one of us saying anything to each other and I’m grateful that the train is so crowded that there are 10 people between us. We get out and proceed to go to this idiotic function where we continue to not speak to each other. I stayed for dinner and left immediately after, leaving him and his cousin at the table.
10, maybe 20 seconds to call and say, I’m running late and all this could have been avoided. With speed dial it’s even less time than that. Nope he can’t do that. I tell him that I won’t be treated like a door mat, I won’t be taken for granted. But then again I did say that last year.
I finally say, ‘Let’s get it over with. If I die, I die’ You see, I told him he was too angry to drive and if someone cut him off he’d probably go crazy, or at least crazier than he was a few minutes previous. We go, and it’s smooth sailing through the tunnel and across town.
No talking, no music and no looking at each other. I did comment on his saying that he rented the car to help me out and offer him money. No, it’s not about the money he says. ‘Then why bring up money if it’s not about money’ I think to myself.
We get to my office building, I pick up the TV and vacuum cleaner as well as his cellphone which he left in my office when he visited yesterday. I load everything into the trunk And then it’s up to his friend Tom’s apartment in East Harlem to get his keyboard and speaker there. I knew there was a keyboard and speaker involved after all.
We get all that and then an arduous drive through Harlem to 110th street to West End Avenue where he says if I want to talk he won’t say anything. I say no. He asks if I’m still frightened of him and I tell him I’m frightened to talk to him, that it’s just another dysfunctional aspect to our dysfunctional relationship.
No music, no talking, just sitting in traffic while crawling towards the entrance to the Lincoln Tunnel. Made it through Hoboken, he stopped where he had originally and I unloaded the TV and the vacuum cleaner. I said thank you and climbed up the stairs with both in my arms.
Oh yeah, relationships are great, just great. What a shit Friday this has been.
