I smell like almond hotel soap, spearmint gum and wind.
Even though it was cold I had the windows down on my drive home today and even though the sky was gray it wasn’t as lonely as the drive down to St. Louis on Friday where I found myself tooling along in the complete darkness on the world’s most boring stretch of road listening to bad rural radio just for the far-off voices because then I had company and it wasn’t as lonely as listening to my CDs.
I had so much fun.
Best Friend Jen knows much more about that city than I do so after we spread all of our girl stuff all over every inch of that high falutin’ hotel room she booked for us, she yanked me around to a million different places and we ate tasty food that was totally bad for us and drank lots of liquids like coffees and lattes and beer and wine and frothy things all of which will have dehydrated me for days.
So we ran around and talked to people and made friends with strangers rubbed The Arch for luck and we were going to hit the Casino Queen * “Home of the Mississippi’s loosest slots!” but we were having way too much fun at the hidden rickety jazz club on the other side of town moving to music and talking to strange fellas who smoked too much and thought they were being impressive with their encyclopedic knowledge of music when they were just being amusingly nerdy.
So we stayed there instead.
So, it was a lovely time and I don’t want to spoil a perfectly good weekend by being an asshole or anything but I have to ask…
What the fuck is up with St. Louis cabbies? I mean, besides the fact there are only like, 2 in the entire city, why don’t they turn OFF that goddamn light that says “TAXI” on top of their cab when they have passengers?
You see, in Chicago, as in most cities I have visited, when that light is on it means that cab is empty and ready for hire.
However, if that “TAXI” light is off, that means don’t bother running into the street waving your arm like an idiot, because that cab already has passengers, so please play again.
These rules do not, apparently, hold true in St. Louis.
I tried flagging down five different cabs approaching with their TAXI light on only to have them cruise by in super slow motion, passengers already in the back seat all staring at me like I was the moron.
Is it a game the cabbies play when they get bored? How many out of towners can they get jumping up and down swearing on the side of the road?
At any rate, I am happy and home now and when I got here my answering machine light was strobing like an 80’s hairband video so I thought there must be something important going down.
But when I pressed play instead of lots of messages from friends and family there were just several messages from a lady who is concerned about her husbands bowel movements and could I write up a ‘script for those suppositories that worked so well for him last time?
Long. Detailed. Messages. Too gross to go into. Really.
Welcome Home annfrankenstein!
Apparently, she thinks I am a Dr. Ying-something-or-another.
Yes, it is an obvious wrong number. But she did sound very concerned and she did leave several numbers and her husband might be sitting around this very second wondering where his goddamned suppositories are.
So I am facing a strange dilemma here. Do I call her and tell her and tell her she has the wrong number and she left all of that private and gross information on a stranger’s answering machine and if she is really concerned she might want to get the real doctors number?
Or do I just assume she’s found it by now and you know, save us both the embarrassment?
You know, there is a reason why I never have that damn machine hooked up most of the time!
* you know, the riverboat made famous by that Casino Queen Wilco song? What? Did you have a casual listen and think they were talking metaphors about a woman or something?