In Which I Realize That I Am Really Not In My Twenties Anymore
Posted By Kristabella on August 2, 2009
This past Friday night was my half-sister Alix’s 21st birthday. Realizing this made me feel old. This was a girl who I babysat when she was little, when I was all of 11 years old myself, and now she’s 21 and entering her last year of college.
We started the evening with dinner here. I was a little nervous going into it because all the recent reviews of the place were horrible. And I was hoping for a good meal. Thankfully, we all really enjoyed it. I guess, in talking to other friends, their service is hit or miss so I can see that if you had crappy service, it would be a shitty experience, especially when you’re paying that much.
After dinner, we headed to a bar. A bar that pretty much no one over the age of 22 goes to (unless you’re going to watch sports, then you’ll find more of a mixed crowd.) We had a blast! I didn’t think I would stay long because the idea of partying with a bunch of 21 year olds doesn’t really suit my fancy. Me of the sensible shoes and band-aids in my purse for blister emergencies. And I may have been super hungover from book wine club the night before. But my stepmom and her boyfriend were there, and we had some good conversations (some way too deep for a drunken Friday night) and it was fun to just watch a bunch of 21 year olds go nuts. Ahhhh, remember those days? (And they probably all woke up sans hangover, unlike my 31 year old self. Bitches.)
Alix really enjoyed herself. She made it clear to everyone it was HER day.
We drank and drank and laughed and people watched and drank some more. Or I did. I really made use of the all you could drink special and packed it into the three hours! Alix did shots. (I’m pretty sure she probably vomited before the night was over. She’s clearly a Johnson because she can really toss ’em back.)
My stepmom’s boyfriend Mike put up with a lot of nonsense from me, Alix and my stepmom, Patty.
I think Alix had a good time, no?
But to me she’ll always be that little girl I babysat, even though I’ve watched her grow up into a phenomenal young lady. Hope you had a wonderful birthday Alix!
Rest of the photos from the evening are here.
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The best part of the evening was my cab ride home. And not because I got a number from a cab driver. Yawn. That is old news. Oh no. This time, I got screamed at by a cab driver.
So on my cab ride home, the guy was kind of a douche. He was driving like a fucking maniac and you could tell he seemed pissed because he had to go so far north. Well guess what, asshole, that means a bigger fare. On top of it, all the windows were open and he was speeding down the freeway and I was FREEZING.
I ignored him as much as possible and Twittered and pretended to be engrossed in my phone, at the same time making sure he was indeed taking me to my house and not to a ditch by the lake. At a stoplight closer to my house, there was some sort of an accident or police activity or something going on. So Douche McCaberson slides open the partition in the cab and points to the police car/car accident and says to me “See?” And I’m thinking “um, see what?” And that’s all I said to him until he needed directions to drop me off at my condo.
So as he rolls up on my building, he says to me, all pissy, “you know, you should really tell people to take Road A here instead of Road B because it is faster. This was ridiculous to go this route.”
(Side note, I tell them this way so I get out as close as possible to my front door and don’t have to cross the street by myself at 2:30 in the morning. I’m not a fucking idiot, douchenozzle. Also, I’m lazy.)
So then I pay my fare and give him close to exact change and say “if you were not such a douche, you would have gotten a bigger tip. GOOD DAY, SIR! I said GOOD DAY!” And then I get out of my cab.
And then Douche McCaberson decided to SCREAM out his window at me. He’s yelling “YOU ARE A FUCKING BITCH! SUCK MY DICK! FUCKING BITCH!” And probably a whole host of other things I blocked out because I just wanted to get into my building.
I was totally freaked out. So much so, I was afraid to take a cab home Saturday night, after helping my friend Melissa celebrate her 30th birthday. (It was a Birthdaypalooza this weekend!) But my good cab driver mojo is back and I told this cab driver the whole sordid tale and he was very pissed on my behalf. And said that should never happen and a driver is supposed to take you whatever way you tell them. Which made me feel 100 times better because I drink a lot. I need to be able to take cabs in the city.
And thankfully this nice cab driver didn’t ask for my number. Because I would have totally given it to him because he didn’t call me a fucking bitch. I’m so easy.
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Edited to add: My dad is dead. He passed away in 2002 or 2003, I never remember, which should clue you in to our relationship. So my stepmom has a boyfriend that she’s been dating for quite a few years. The end.
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I am SO glad I’m not 30 years younger … BTW … I LOVE that last shot of your sister. Excuse me … I have to go take my blood pressure medicine now.
.-= lceel´s last blog ..It’s coming back. =-.
Any chance you got that cab driver’s number that they post so you could report him? If you remember the name of the cab company, I’d still report it to “311” even if you don’t have the driver’s ID. Asshat!!!!!
Stepmom and her boyfriend? Apparently there’s more to this story than I’m aware of…
Goodness girlie…sounds like that cab ride was scary…I’m sure I would have had to get my umbrella out and beat him about the head a few times.
Glad you made it home ok!!
.-= Melissa´s last blog ..Snowflake or Queen Anne’s Lace? =-.
My little sis’ 21st is coming up next month, too! Seriously, how did we get so old? Or rather, how did THEY get so old? She should still be in middle school!
.-= Camels & Chocolate´s last blog ..Photo Friday: Fuglefjorden, Svalbard =-.
Your cab driver issues makes me glad I don’t live in a city and/or drink a lot to where I would need to take a cab. I’ve only been in a cab once, ever, which would probably leave me totally unprepared if I were to ever venture into New York City. Thankfully, though, that’s not in the cards in any immediate future.
.-= C @ Kid Things´s last blog ..Sweeney 2.0 x 4 =-.
Aw, the photos of you and your sister are so cute – looks like she had fun 🙂
And I second the recommendation to report the cab driver if you can: that sounds so frightening…
.-= Amber´s last blog ..Five Go To Lindisfarne (via North Berwick and Cove) =-.
“Douche McCaberson.” You crack me up! Whenever I am in a cab I make note of the medallion number thingy, so that I can make a complaint about any DMcC I may encounter. I did have to report one for going ballistic on me for not having CASH when the notice clearly states that they must accept CREDIT, but my very own DMcC decided to pitch a hissyfit in my driveway. While he was doing so, I re-dialed the dispatcher number, put it on speaker, and had a real-time Douchey McCaberson intervention with Cab Company Big Boss. There was no tip, there was no credit, and my suburban Douchey McCaberson is no longer driving for them. Hopefully he’s on medication.
I used to get crabby cab drivers all the time who bitched about me living in Arlington because they only wanted to drive people around DC. Dude, you get paid to drive! So shut up and drive!
.-= La Petite Chic´s last blog ..When Paranoia Becomes Reality =-.
Having younger half-siblings, I TOTALLY RELATE.
I used to wipe their bums and now they’re ALL GROWN UP.
Am old.
.-= Angella´s last blog ..Faith Like A Child =-.
you’ve met my 24-year-old brother. and you know how OLD OLD OLD that makes me feel..
🙂
.-= ali´s last blog ..At least they made my shorts look good… =-.
It sounds like it was a drunk Friday night all over the Country… here’s an excerpt from an email I just responded to:
“I, too, am having the same memory problems. The list isn’t in the kitchen, however, it’s my understanding that a glass was broken, a glass that did contain liquid, so it’s possible the list is now gone. Check with the Mrs. and /or Chris as I don’t actually recall cleaning up said spill or breakage.”
Reminds me of my own sister’s 21st…Oh I was oh so proud of her!
.-= Scarlet´s last blog ..Ruiner =-.
Holy shit. NO WAY that is Alix. You are obviously not only a “FUCKING BITCH!” but also a liar, liar pants on fire. Because if Alix IS that old….
Holy shit, we’re old.
I love that you have band-aids in your purse.
.-= tracey´s last blog .."My Sink is dirty" or "Why FlyLady is on Crack" =-.
I’m with Mahnee: file a complaint (if you can)! What an asshat. Glad you got home okay, though.
.-= Chibi Jeebs´s last blog ..Some thoughts =-.
So many things I could say but it’s morning and I think I’m supposed to go to work so…
I totally want to hug you for the lines “Which made me feel 100 times better because I drink a lot. I need to be able to take cabs in the city.” Seriously a lot of people don’t understand that you TAKE A CAB when you drink, you are pretty awesome.
Second, I can’t drink like I used to. I have the down water to numb the hangover but the truth is I can’t function the way I used to the next day. AT ALL.
Well, that was a much better evening than my 21st, during I spent the entire day studying for what would turn out to be the hardest exam of my entire academic career. Finally, at 11 p.m., Pete and a friend dragged me out to a bar for one drink.
Have no fear, I’ve made up for it on other birthdays since then.
.-= Jen on the Edge´s last blog ..Bridges, puddles, and more =-.
Yeah, we don’t take cabs all that often in the ATL, for which I’m generally thankful. On one hand, you need to have a good DD, which is sometimes a PITA when it’s your turn. On the other, less likely to be screamed at by a cabbie… though no less likely to be screamed at by a drunken frat boy.
.-= Darcey´s last blog ..Moving killed me dead =-.
I don’t think you should drive a cab if you have Tourette’s
.-= thecoconutdiaries´s last blog ..These Are My Confessions =-.
Joe’s On Weed. I have a love/relationship with that place. I used to be the Exec Dir (fancy title, huh?) of a college student organization and when our convention was in Chicago, we took 400 students there. In school buses. Klassy. And some guy I “dated” for a while (a Chicago cop) came and made me cry, in front of all of the students. And that’s what I know about Joe’s. 🙂
And — I’d report the cabby, too, if you happened to catch his name/cab number.
Wait, did you really say “GOOD DAY SIR! I SAID GOOD DAY!”
If you did, you’re my hero. Please say you did.
.-= Nothing But Bonfires´s last blog ..Labor of Love =-.