At long last, the endlessly sucky winter of misery seems to have come to an end, and we find ourselves at the beginning of what we New Yorkers like to call "Spring Week". It’s the week between the cold, rainy end of winter and the sweltering, smelly humidity of the summer.
It’s right around this time every year that I like to take a moment to reflect on my life... usually after several shots of grain alcohol, but occasionally sober.
It’s hard to believe that only a year ago I was still slaving away at a god-forsaken spa of death.
You remember the Haunted Mansion in Disney World? That creepy voice that says "You may have noticed the room you are standing in has no windows and no doors, which leaves you with this chilling challenge: to find a way out!" That’s pretty much what this spa was like. No windows, one door, no escape.
Evil took a human form in the owner. I spent my every day trying to avoid her ever since she told me my aura was impure and attempted to cure me by making me lie naked on a table while she placed crystals all over my body. I don’t know how much of an effect it had on my aura, but it did cause me to live in mortal fear of this woman.
She was very in to peace and love and yoga, and would preach about happiness and acceptance of all people when she wasn’t too busy telling me I wasn’t allowed to hire ugly people... or black people... or fat people... or men.
The highlight of our relationship was when she took me out to lunch one day, ordered double bacon cheese burgers for both of us, then wouldn’t let me put ketchup on mine because it was fattening.
What little time I wasn’t forced to spend at the spa was spent with my then boyfriend Tony.
Tony and I enjoyed a wide variety of activities together. Sometimes, we’d go out for Italian food. Sometimes we’d drive around in his white Escalade and collect money. Actually, it was pretty much just those two things.
I liked dating Tony because it made me feel like Jane Goodal, living amongst the apes. Sometimes his stupidity was so complete it actually gave the illusion of depth. Sometimes he would say things so dumb I would reflect on them for weeks, if not months, as if they were pearls of wisdom uttered by a great philosopher.
"You know, babe, the Witness Protection Program can move you anywhere on earth. Even a whole other country. Like Arizona."
"What would I spend fifty dollars on new sheets for, when I could buy the same sheets off this guy I know for thirty, and save ten bucks."
Ultimately, even that was better than the summer before that when I had to flee the den of inequity that was my old apartment, where I lived with a psychotic Single White Female type who let homeless men sleep in my bed when I wasn’t around.
But this summer... I think this summer is going to be the best summer ever.
Comparatively, at least.
