Sunday, June 08, 2008

That Was The Weekend That Was

I'm telling you, the whole thing was topsy-turvy. There were good thing, bad things, weird things, and the just plain dumb.

Friday was Ronnie's wedding to Brenadette on Fripp Island. The ceremony was small with only a handful for family memers there and of course I was the only lump of coal in a snowbank. Actually, there was another Black guy there, but he was with his long time companion, so he gets half a credit. I was actually happy and still stunned that I was in the wedding. So nervous in fact, that as Ronnie, his brother and best man Rick and I came walking out, I bumpedinto the table that held the champagne glasses and one fell over, crashing to the ground and breaking. Yes, I felt like a jackass and no one would ever forget that wedding. I was forgiven by the couple for the bump, but I couldn't shake it the rest of the time I was there. In fact, one of Brenedette's uncle's or cousins or whatever the Hell he was (I met him earlier when Ronnie introduced him to me and Rick and while he shook Rick's hand, he ignored me and so he's on the shite list) yelled at me at the reception, "Hey Sam, watch out for those plastic cups on the the table! You could break those, too!" I turned to him, politely bulked up my muscles, arched an eyebrow and quitely gave him an "f*** you", then walked away. I do so love weddings.

The whole shindig lasted till 10 and I packed up my one hundred and fifty dollar rented DJ equipment into my rented 2008 Dodge Caliber that cost me 64 dollars (that's the breakdown of it, Ronnie. Please send the check fast as I am late with the rent) and headed out of Fripp Island and towards home. There's just one slight problem of that I knew how to get there, thanks to Mapquest. I just didn't know how to get the heck out of South Carolina.

To paraphrase Roger Ebert, I hate South Carolina. Hate, hate, hate, hate. I try to give it some respect because it's one of the original thirteen colonies, but I could give a crap on it. The women are freaky, the men are asses, and the roads are screwed up. Here I was for over two hours trying to find my way off of this place with no signs anywhere telling me how close to I-95 I was because I was going in a circle. I felt like I was trapped in Groundhog's Day. I kept seeing the same McDonald's, the same Publix's, the same ugly hooker in the black sparkly dress on the corner over and over and over again. I asked some punk kids at a Sonic how to get to a main road and they couldn't even tell me how to tie a shoelace. It finally took a burley guy in a black t-shirt covered in skulls to give me the right way out and when I did, I took it at eighty and every corner on two wheels. Oh, and for the record, the Dodge Caliber has great mileage and smooth handling. Thanks, Enterprise Car Rentals! I finally got in around 1:30 a.m. and fell asleep once my head hit the pillow, just so I could forget about the pain of being in a crappy state.

There are other things that happened over the weekend as well, but I'll hold off on them later. The worse thing that happened is while in Beaufort, my laptop was badly screwed up due to being in a carry all bag with a bottle of Downy Wrinkle Realease which messed the whole thing up and now not working. I'm now typing this post at South University's computer lab and will now be out of a home computer till further notice. This is what I get for crossing state lines, I suppose. So, if anyone wants help me get a new laptop, click on the PayPal button and make a donation. You'll be glad you did and thanks!

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