lost opportunity (554 hits)
Category: NoneLabels: nonfiction
Rating: 0.58 on 20 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by scourgeoftheseas (View user info) at 2005-10-24 09:36:16 EDT
My job requires me to travel quite often. Mostly over the road stuff, though I do get the occasional trip into Washington D.C., Vegas, New Orleans. What I am usually required to do is back and forth to Chicago a couple times a month, different destinations around Illinois, and the occasional foray into St. Louis, Indianapolis, and other metropolitan areas in surrounding states.
My home is about three and a half or four hours from Chicago. Usually when I have meetings in the city, I'll leave home at 4 in the morning rather than going the day before and getting a hotel room for the night. I would always rather sleep in my own bed and lose a few hours of sleep than stay in a hotel. I have concerns about needles in the bed, dead hookers in the box springs, valid concerns.
So, last Friday I had to go into Chicago again, to a meeting starting at 7 a.m. This means if I don't leave home by three, at the absolute latest, I'll be late. I was actually considering going up the night before, until my boss tells me that that is what I have to do. Something about safety. Fuck you, bitch, I'm setting my clock for 2:30.
So, I call up the car rental place to get my reservation lined up. The guy on the phone recognizes my number and tells me not to come until about a half hour later than usual. What the fuck, no skin off my back, I'll just stay at work a little longer and look at Uber. As a potential bonus the alarm codes will show what a good and dedicated worker I am, staying so late, and maybe I can leverage this into some comp time.
The rental car company guys love me. I always shoot the shit with them, commiserate with their problems, whatever. You know, just basically treat them like the human beings they are, rather than the pieces of shit that 99% of their customer base, including my coworkers, and especially the she-boss, treat them like. Because of this they give me little special treatments, nicer cars than what I order, waiving the cost of the gas that I don't put back into them etc.
What they don't know is that when I get into these cars, I have one goal. To return it with as many broken pieces, discounting ones I can potentially be held liable for, as possible.
Anything in pursuit of this noble end is fair game. Doing doughnuts. (Though in reverse they aren't nearly as fun; I damn the proliferation of front wheel drive vehicles.) Neutral drops; for those ignorant of this fine pastime, this involves putting the car in neutral, revving the car up to about 8,000 rpms and then jerking the shifter into low gear. Go try this right now, if you haven't already.
One of my personal favorites is driving 75 mph in first gear, never shifting for miles and miles. When I roll down the windows the smell of the melting gearbox is hardly noticeable. The shrieking whine as the transmission begs for release from its version of hell is not a problem at all because I generally have earplugs in. This is of course to prevent hearing loss brought on by the stereo, because if I don't have it up at least loud enough to kill small roadside animals then I am not doing my duty.
So, 6:30 rolls around, I log out of the network, give my boss's long empty office the finger and head out.
When I get to the car rental place, the teenager behind the counter starts grinning like a damn lunatic. "Hey man I got a surprise for you, something special..."
Shit, this kid's going to try and eat me. He finally got sick of being a whipping boy, and he's going to get one back on those fuckers who are always giving him so much grief. Damn it man, I'm one of the good ones. I was one of you not so long ago...
Or wait, worse, they know I've been fucking their cars up...
That's when he points out to the parking lot as his coworker drives up in a shiny new Dodge Magnum. With the sport package; Hemi, shiny rims, tinted windows. The thing was brand new, had about forty miles on it.
Immediately my brain starts going, "I'm going to race a Ferrari. I'm going to race a Ferrari. And I'm going to win, motherfucker!!"
I don't watch much television, but I remember what I see on the damn thing, and I saw this car beat a Ferrari in a road race. I now have the ability to race and win against a Ferrari. I know this is true, because TV advertisements wouldn't lie to me.
I know that I am going to have fun doing bad things and this makes me happy.
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After my meeting, the next day, I'm exhausted and annoyed. The boy was up until about midnight doing what he does. I couldn't find a Ferrari to race on the Illinois freeway during the dead of night. The best I found was a Porsche, and that guy didn't want to face the fury of my rental Dodge. That's why he drove away so quickly that I couldn't catch him. Damn lying television. The meeting was, as most are, a complete waste of my fucking time and it ran long so my me time for later that night had been cut into. Altogether a failure of a day. Damn.
I grab a cup of coffee and hit the road.
As I head out of the city I turn my cell phone to vibrate mode and set it on the seat between my legs. This way if the thing goes off I'll actually know, not being able to hear over the thundering roar of the factory supplied stereo.
Once get on the highway, I slip in a disc, the soundtrack to Grosse Point Blank, and turn the stereo up entirely too loud. Loud enough that the rearview mirror is dancing like a kid peeing on an electric fence.
As the song Under Pressure, David Bowie and Queen, comes on, I turn the stereo the rest of the way up, start smiling and thinking about what the hell I'm going to do with my weekend.
As I finally start to settle down and be happy, my balls receive a violent shaking. In my confusion I throw up my hands. The steaming hot coffee sloshes across the dashboard of the car, and as it flows down into the dash speakers, David Bowie's voice gets really muted and muddy. Next is that nice floppy sound of a speaker that has come loose at the seams.
Beautiful.
I look down at the phone and it's my sister calling. I find that I'm suddenly rather busy so I don't answer.
After I get everything as clean as I can while driving down the Dan Ryan Expressway I start laughing to myself.
This whole damn thing is Vanilla Ice's fault. If he hadn't stolen that bit from the song it wouldn't have made me turn it up louder, so as to reminisce about my younger days. That son of a bitch. Just so happens he's doing a show in my hometown the following Saturday night. If I get charged for these speakers, he's going to pay.
I even had it planned out. I was going to wait for him to start his set and then just scream as loud as I could, "STOP.......
Once the whole place had shut up I'd finish. "...collaborate and listen."
Apparently this super thug has a nasty violent temper now. Would this be enough to push him over the edge? I sure hoped so. I know I could whip Vanilla Ice's ass. This was going to be awesome. I'd be in the news as the guy who beat up Vanilla Ice. This was sure to garner me a few free drinks at the very least.
As I get closer to home I remember that my sister had called. I punch in her number and when she answers I tell her all about my plan. She immediately starts laughing at me. She had called to fuck with me and ask me if I wanted one of the tickets her friend had gotten to see the Vanilla Ice appearance. When I didn't answer she called her friend back and told her to give it to someone else. In the meantime, the show had sold out.
User Reviews
Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2007-07-26 12:42:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by minimumdino (user info) at 2006-01-11 19:47:36 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
lost opportunity was the trimester when your mother could've gotten the abortion to end your life before it began
how did you manage to secure this gem's rage so early in your "career"?
Submitted by ghola (user info) at 2007-05-18 13:02:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
No Comment
Submitted by darko (user info) at 2006-10-31 22:41:47 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
I've had it up to here with your shennanigans, I'm going through and -2ing ALL of your posts!
Submitted by EchoBoxing (user info) at 2006-10-27 14:35:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
Submitted by EchoBoxing (user info) at 2006-10-27 14:35:19 (#)
Ranking: -2
stop using oathmeal to +2 yourself
Submitted by UnderOathMeal (user info) at 2006-10-27 14:28:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I LOVE MYSELF!!
SIGNED,
SCOURGEY
Submitted by UnderOathMeal (user info) at 2006-10-27 13:56:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
Submitted by scourge (user info) at 2006-10-27 13:39:58 (#)
Ranking: -2
http://www.ubersite.com/m/95020#2202073
banning attempt
Submitted by redskieslookfake (user info) at 2006-08-30 05:23:04 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
My honesty requires me to give this a zero and say 'hmmm'
Submitted by minimumdino (user info) at 2006-01-11 19:47:36 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
lost opportunity was the trimester when your mother could've gotten the abortion to end your life before it began
Submitted by Herpes (user info) at 2005-10-24 20:02:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Yes, I have to say this was worth reading times two.
Submitted by jack11058 (user info) at 2005-10-24 14:31:23 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
+ fucking two.
a new user who actually gets it.
thank fucking christ.
Submitted by skrapmetal (user info) at 2005-10-24 12:58:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Started strong, finished weak. +1 for the rental car abuse, though.
Fun rental car activity: drive around city streats with the brakes on, just at dusk, for 20 minutes or so. As you drive past your buddy's house (who conveniently has a video camera set up), the camera will pick up the pretty orange glow of the brake discs.
Submitted by Agentmorneo (user info) at 2005-10-24 11:46:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Grosse Point Blank Soundtrack, auto +2
Isn't Blister in the sun about masterbating? I'm not quite sure
Submitted by scourge (user info) at 2005-10-24 11:41:12 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
Berty, dear sweet ghey-haired Berty. I think that the hair is fucking with your mind. Pirates are certainly the superior warriors. Lets forget that for now however, because I think you're in luck.
I have two lesbians up the street from me that you are welcome to. They liked me before I cut off my manly locks, now not so much. This might be right up your alley.
A caveat: one is around 400 lbs. and has a certain aroma that doesn't always please. The other is a little better, especially if you like women without any teeth in their skulls. Oh they are also raging racists and collectors of stray animals. On nice days when the windows are open you can smell the delicate perfume of cat urine on the breeze.
What say you, want the hook up or not?
Actually, fuck that I want these tasty ladies for myself. I'm growing my hair back out.
Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2005-10-24 11:27:11 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Happy?
------------
No. Ninjas are inherantly better than pirates. And I want the hookers to move into the tiny basement flat under mine. And I want them to be pretty and inexperienced (i.e. fresh).
In fact, forget about the hookers. Just chuck a couple of bi-curious lesbo's down there with a penchant for average height skinny blokes with big ghey hair. Some people I can get together with and discuss how ace my love truncheon is.
Submitted by scourge (user info) at 2005-10-24 11:19:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
...so, I couldn't go to the show and whip Vanilla Ice's ass. I would wait outside the venue and catch him then, and in the process save myself the price of a cover charge. These savings I could put to use paying for some anal from a giant black transsexualwhore.
But, lo and behold, as I got there, a number of hookers, prates and ninjas were playing blackjack. I stepped to the table with my mighty prong unleashed and demanded to be dealt in.
The pirates agreed to let me in .The ninjas balked, knowing that scourgeoftheseas would take their money, powers and women all. The two groups began to fight, whilst all the hookers fell to their knees, in love with the sight of my man-log. They were all saying how I was such a great guy that they wanted to pay me.
Well, the pirates won that fight, as pirates are much better at drunken parking lot fighting than ninjas could ever hope to be. I lay satisfied from the attentions of the whores. And then he burst from the door, Vanilla Ice. My legion of hos and pirates then proceeded to dismember him chanting, "Ice, Ice baby.." the whole time.
Then we went to my place and invited Berty and str8_rzr over for an orgy of drugs and beer, all stolen from the dead mans tour Chevette.
Happy?
Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2005-10-24 10:59:29 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Or a tale about ninja's whupping pirates and taking all their murder 'ho's!
Submitted by str8_razr (user info) at 2005-10-24 10:46:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
What I like to do with automatic transmission rental cars is put one foot on the brake and the other one the gas. While sitting at a stop light, rev it up to 3-4,000 and when the light changes to green release the brake. It especially funny if your passenger is siping a coffee. Another reason to never buy used rental cars.
But, back to your story. It started out so well and then you go into this classic "and finally, everyone was hit by a train" type ending. Go back and give us a good ending with hookers and blackjack. On second thought, forget the blackjack.
Submitted by scourge (user info) at 2005-10-24 10:43:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
Submitted by ozzy (user info) at 2005-10-24 09:50:50 (#)
Ranking: 0
Started off ok, then nothing actually happened.
My advice? You should have made up something about the stereo dying, and eventually being replaced free of charge by a 8 foot tall Puerto Rican drag queen, who gave you a hand job after you complimented it's large feet.
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Ozzy, how did you know about that part? Get out of my mind, get out of my mind!!
Submitted by Mike00295 (user info) at 2005-10-24 09:50:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Rental cars kick ass.
Submitted by ozzy (user info) at 2005-10-24 09:50:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Started off ok, then nothing actually happened.
My advice? You should have made up something about the stereo dying, and eventually being replaced free of charge by a 8 foot tall Puerto Rican drag queen, who gave you a hand job after you complimented it's large feet.