September 11th

Well... normally, I'd be bitching, complaining, or pointing out some other ridiculous situation I've put myself in recently, but I still can't get my head around the fact that it's been 7 years since I was stuck in my boss' apartment wathcing "Alive" with his wife at 3am. The subways and LIRR weren't running that day; I had no cell reception, and thusly nowhere to go. Joe insisted that I stay with him and his family until it was all over. Holy shit was that a mistake. Some part of me would have welcomed a confrontation with the Taliban just so I wouldn't be subjected to the antics of that entire fucked up family. Let me paint a picture for you:

We leave the office, sometime in the early afternoon and walk to his multi-million dollar apartment on Riverside Drive. The reason I noted the "million-dollar apt." is that upon entering the apartment, you would have thought this family was eligible for low-income housing. None of the furniture matched. There was a half-dead ficus in the corner looming over animal-destroyed sofa, and the 50" flat screen television was propped up by a broken wooden footstool. I shit you not - it was awful. I don't have a fraction of what these people have, and my Walmart linens are in better shape than this. We sat there watching the horrific videos of the towers and all of that looped CNN footage till I basically wanted to stab myself with the switchblade that was resting on the kitchen counter. (I don't know why it was there either.) His friend from Germany was planning on staying that night also which meant that sleeping arrangements were going to get a little tricky. I stayed awake watching bad television for most of the night when my boss' wife, Robin, couldn't sleep either. We sat up watching "Alive" on HBO or Cinemax or some shit. Granted, probably not the most appropriate thing to be watching, but at this point I need to find a happy place - even if that place is on a mountain in the Andes ready to fry up my best friend's ass cheeks for food.... it happens.

To make a long story shorter, I ended up sleeping in a twin-sized pink Barbie bed, complete with Barbie canopy. (The daughter left to sleep with her parents.) My fat ass could barely fit under the sheets, much less my feet, that dangled at the ends like two giant half-wrapped hershey bars. When I woke up there was a 3 year old that desperately wanted me to play 'house'. Fuck that. I gave it a go for about 10 mins before the reality set in.... I'm in my boss' apartment, desperately in need of a shower, and I have a 3 year old girl looking at me like I'm a fucking Teletubby come to life for the sole purpose of entertaining her. My shoes were by the front door so I had to tip-toe out without anyone hearing me. I instructed the little girl to give her doll a new hairstyle until I got back (clearly the makers of this doll thought it was 1988 - it was awful), so she was taken care of. I get about 4 feet from my shoes when I see freedom actually within reach until... about a foot away from the door knob, I step in a giant puddle of cold fucking dog piss.. Not warm, cold - apparently an overnight gift left by their little pooch. I took off my socks and stuffed them in the garbage can, grabbed my shit, and was almost out the door when I see Robin walking out of the bedroom. "I'm making chocolate-chip pancakes? Where you going?"... Fuck. Who am I to turn down pancakes... chocolate chip even. So, I sat and ate quietly still not believing like the events of the day prior had actually happened. Not the towers.. I slept in a fucking Barbie bed! Ok, yeah the towers. It was completely fucking surreal, and after I'd had my pancakes, I was getting the fuck out and on my way home where I belonged.

I actually have no memory of getting home, probably from the lack of sleep the night before. However, I will take with me this - If I EVER find myself in a situation like that again, national attack or otherwise, I will walk, steal, hitchhike, hijack a fucking car if I have to. Life's too short and if it's my time to go, it won't be in the presence of these crazy sons of bitches.

Over and out.