it serves me right

last week in michigan was chock full of nephews and nieces and breezes and baseball games. and driving the new SUV* around detroit like a real midwesterner. arriving back in DC just in time for the hottest, nastiest, swampiest day of the summer was not awesome timing. maybe there's something there, but any blog about that would have all my DC friends asking (not for the first time) if i'm going back to michigan and my michigan friends trying to tempt me with their amazing real estate purchases (jack, tell your momma i'm talking to her!).

so instead, i'm going to tell a story from the week before i left that b has been chastising me for not sharing.

i had a doctor's appointment that was smack dab in the middle of the day, and nowhere near a metro. i had thought about driving to the office that day, but first of all i don't live in michigan and second the thought of paying for parking twice on k street is just against everything i stand for. also, my car is a piece of shit (not the new american suv, obviously - but the old foreign one). so instead i decided to treat myself to a cab. and after i emerged from my office and waved one down, i was sitting in the back, feeling pretty impressed with myself. i had on a cute wrap dress, some great pumps on, and as i pulled out one of my blackberries from my coach bag, i thought - this ain't bad. a year ago, taking a cab to and from a doctor's appointment was a luxury that i simply could not justify. hell, taking a cab in general is a luxury as far as i'm concerned, and there i was - a cute BigLaw associate taking a cab in the middle of the day. i was using blackberry messenger to tell b i was off to the doctor, and how swanky i felt taking a cab at 1:30 in the afternoon.

and that's when it happened. when the fates (and perhaps my cabbie's lunch) conspired against me, to put me in my place, to remind me that i'm not such a big shot after all.

my cabbie farted. and we're not talking about a little toot that i heard and over which i was embarrassed for him. oh no, friends. we're talking silent but deadly. i don't know what that dude had for lunch, but it mixed with the vinyl seats and three year old green tree air freshener hanging from the rear view mirror and produced a stench that i'm pretty sure would be considered torture under the geneva conventions. it was that. bad.

through my stifled gags and watering eyes, i started clicking away on my blackberry to tell b. and he was right, shit like that is exactly why i started blogging again.


*hybrid, of course, bbs.