It's nice to know that my sleep deprivation is back in full swing. Yesterday I woke up around 9 having to go to the bathroom, having gone to bed at 4:30. I figured I fell asleep around 3:30 or 4 this morning and woke up at 8:45. Just for funsies apparently. One would think that after the punishment I put my body through last night, it would want some more fucking rest.
My weekend was a decent one. I ended up blowing more than I thought I would, and not exactly sure where I spent it, but spent it I did!
New Year's Eve marked my return to the driver's seat after a nine day break. I thought it would hell, the return to work on the busiest night of the year, but it wasn't! That's one thing I'm definitely happy about. It was a profitable night for ol' Guak, despite shitty luck and ineffectual dispatching that caused me to not make a single cent from 11 until 12:30. But after that the calls came in.
All night I was giving customers (at least the ones that tipped well) my cell phone number, informing them that they could the office and wait an hour or two for a taxi, or call me and wait no more than half an hour. So at 12:30 or so LOTS of people wanted my services. It was tough adjusting from no work to being completely buried in it. It drove me batty, and when my roommate called me looking to get a ride for a friend of his, I snapped at him a bit. But having my fortune change and making mad cash is worth the insanity.
I was a little disappointed that despite the fact I never stopped moving from 7 until 4 (with the exception of the five minute bathroom break), I don't have any interesting stories to tell. There was the woman in her fifties who gave me a sloppy drunken kiss on the cheek around 8 (and she gave me another one about five hours later). And the girl who told me she was so happy I picked up her and her friends she could make out with me. I told her that works for me, and we both laughed though I was only half-joking. There was a domestic argument, but, sadly, that happens often enough that can't really be described as interesting.
All in all a good night: the drunks were in good spirits (for the most part), there was no vomit involved, and I made the exact amount of money that I made last New Year's Eve, making it a tie for my second most profitable night ever driving a cab.
I saw True Grit Saturday afternoon. I really really liked it. Jeff Bridges was excellent, and the teenage girl was precocious but not annoyingly so. Highly recommended. I went with a lady. She seems pretty interesting, but I get the feeling she only wants to be movie buddies. I'm not quite sure how I feel about this: I have plenty of friends and don't feel much of a need to make any more.
Saturday night was, like usual, spent at Ruski's. I had fun. Not much to talk about, really, almost all of my closest peoples were there, and that tends to make me happy.
As I mentioned earlier in this post, I woke up earlier than I wanted to Sunday morning. I was mighty cranky, so to cheer me up I watched Destiny's Child videos for about an hour and a half. There was one in particular from their earlier days, I can't seem to recall which one, Beyonce was so young I barely recognized her at first. Weird. I met up with Luke and the Brothers Wilber for breakfast at Becky's. Marcy's is our Sunday breakfast spot, but, like every year, they are closed for the month of January. I do enjoy Becky's, but I do feel they are a poor substitute: the food isn't as good, it's on the expensive side, and you have to wait forever for a booth. So I think I might just skip Sunday breakfast until Marcy's opens back up.
Soon after coming home I went over across the hall to Fort Bitchin' to play some co-op Super Mario Bros on the Wii. It was a lot of fun, despite the fact that I...well, I suck at it frankly. Which makes frustrates me since I have always loved the Mario games. At one point, during a boss battle, Bethlynne told me to just have Luigi stand in the corner while she takes out the boss. Humiliating.
I went out for drinks with another lady that night. I'm not sure why I picked the bar that I go every Sunday night. Maybe since this whole dating thing is pretty unfamiliar territory for me I wanted a familiar setting with some familiar faces. The lady was nice enough, and I am always amazed I can sustain a conversation for a few hours, and having to come up with the topics of said conversation (which I am not particularly good at). And, if I may be so bold, I daresay I nailed it. I fucking nailed it. She was putty in my hands. The problem being I am not so sure how interested I am. I wasn't really feeling it. I'll probably go out with her again to see if I find any sort of connection, but I have my doubts. Someday I am bound to find a woman that's as into me as I am into her, right? RIGHT? Oh, well, a friend also told me she has a friend she wants me to meet. I'll see how that goes.
Almost immediately after my date dropped me off at home (after she consumed three pints of Shipyard Prelude...Jesus), I went over to Ruski's and had a few ass-cold Pibbers with Jackie and Edie. A bluegrass band was ending their set with an excellent rendition of "Straight To Hell" by The Clash, which is one of my favorite songs ever.
Walked back to my Sunday night haunt at around 11 to meet up with some other friends. The bartender asked me if the lady I was with earlier was my girl, and I told him that this was my first time meeting her in person, and I'm not sure about meeting up with her again. His advice to me was "fuck 'em and chuck 'em" - a policy I'm not so sure about, though I suppose it has its merits. But I shan't dump on the man: he ended up only charging me for one of my four pints, and then said "fuck it" and said that one was on him. Score!
Not a bad way to start 2011.
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