Short little story here to ease you into the weekend.
So we were headin' back from Orlando, trying to get back into town on time to get Heckyeahwoman to her hair appointment on time. She scheduled it at like 2 pm, and Orlando is about 2 hours away. Staying overnight in a hotel, we knew that checkout was gonna be at like 11. Staying overnight in a hotel, we knew that we were probably gonna wake up from the alarm, snooze it, and call for late checkout.
Staying overnight in a hotel, we knew that there was going to be some fucking around, and we would be running late.
Needless to say, we were running late. The dumb bitch at the Starbucks taking FOREVER to get me my 2 goddamn AMERICANOZ didn't help things.
Anyway, so we finally get on the road, and as we're heading to the first tollbooth, I grab my 75 cents and toss them in the toll-collecting basket. Sweet, all 3 quarters sailed right in. In a hurry, I pull ahead, and notice the gate didn't open for me. We wait about 20 seconds, and the gate is still not down.
Right as I'm about start punching the dashboard, Heckyeahwoman yells, "GO PUT MORE MONEY IN". OK, so I get 3 more quarters, and toss them in. Immediately I run to the car, so I can speed out of the now opening gate. Except the gates not opening.
What the fuck.
I get out again, and give a "sorry" hand gesture & smile to the cars behind me. They're getting pissed; but interestingly enough, I didn't hear a single horn during the entire ordeal. Kinda cool. After a handful of change gets violently thrown at the basket, I run back to the car so as not to miss the opening of the gate.
Heckyeahwoman is pretty pissed at this point. I'm sweating.
Finally, I run to the lady in the booth, working the change-line, and point. She gestures for me to go, and raises the gate. FUCK YEAH WE'RE OUTTA THERE.
The minute I get in the car, Heckyeahwoman, obviously flustered, asks, "Why didn't you wait for the gate to raise before pulling forward?" Kind of confused, I ask, "Wait, what?". That seems to be my standard response for any question I don't like.
She clarifies for me, implying that I caused the tollbooth to malfunction. Now seeing the error of my ways, I apologize for the tollbooth not functioning properly, as that was something I obviously wanted to have happen. It was my goal for us to be stuck in a tollbooth, watching as the line of cars grows and grows.
Understandably, she was irritated; we were running late, and we were both pretty hungry. And I was sweating.
Some words of wisdom: all you boyfriends, and future husbands out there - remember, if a piece of machinery, or anything, ever malfunctions, independent of your actions, it's your fault. You fucked up.