I figure this should be a catchy title. Well I finally feel like posting. This last weekend and the one prior have been intense patches of bad luck.
First, I feel that it should be put out there, that I was pepper sprayed by Tempe Police. The first thought one might have is, “what did you do to get pepper sprayed?” Well the answer to that is very simple: wrong place at the wrong time. I don’t believe I’ve ever had a more truthful time to say that phrase. The story begins like this…
On the fateful evening of November 26th, we were going out to play bar golf for a friend’s birthday. We were dressed in our silliest golf attire, slightly buzzed from a bottle of champagne enjoyed before venturing off to Mill Ave via the Orbit shuttle (referred to on my twitter feed as the short bus, smelly, full of homeless people, etc.) because it is free. One great thing about Tempe is the ease of not having to drive when you go out and party, no DUI’s for this wookie. Onward ho, we start at the Mill Ave Cue Club and have an Absolut Berry Acai and Red Bull, all is well. The next stop is Zuma, which is empty until all the retarded small children passing as drinking age come out at approximately 11:30 at night. Blondie’s and then Hooters where the group makes a vast attempt to be crazy, loud, and obnoxious and be evicted from the establishment just like last year. Success! Kicked out of Hooters once again. We made a horrible mistake of ordering something called the Vegas Bomber which turned out to be $8.75 a piece (wtf?) So we hastily drink our overpriced bomber, leave a terrible tip and run. This is the part where things get hazy. Not completely sure what bars were next, we became separated from the rest of the group. We stopped in the cigar shop where there was a very friendly guy attending the shop and my boyfriend bought me and my friend cigars. (Found half smoked cigar in pocket next day.) At some point we have decided to call it a night (this is where the fun starts) and take a seat on a bench outside of Rula Bula. Still unsure of where everyone else had gone, we discussed our travel plans for getting home. The options are to take the Light Rail for $1.75 a person and walk about a half mile to my apartment or take a cab that will cost roughly $10. Before we could finalize our decision, we heard people running and looked to our left to see guys running and then falling onto the ground fighting, a pile too large to decipher who was fighting and who was attempting to break it up. This fight is taking place at least 6 feet from where we are sitting. As quickly as it happened and we are able to process that a fight is erupting in our vicinity, we are overcome by a spraying noise and wetness in our faces. And then all of a sudden, I am on FIRE. The stinging and burning is more than I could ever have imagined. Complete confusion as to what happened and why overcomes me. I am blind and cannot stop rubbing my eyes, which is the wrong thing to do. I have drank too much to be able to fully control what my body is doing. I am a sobbing mess, because what else can you do when you are trying so hard to see what is happening and get the shit out of your eyes that is burning. I haven’t cried like that in I don’t know how long. Now did police detain anyone? Don’t think so. Did they say they were sorry or address the fact that they should not of sprayed an entire area of people that were clearly not involved? No. Did I get a free ride home? Not from them. At some point paramedics were called because I was a mess. All I wanted was for the burning to stop and to go home. Finally after an indeterminable amount of time (had to be at least 30 minutes) I was able to see again. I had a friend from the group pouring water over my eyes and some sort of moistened cloth given to me by the paramedics. We got a ride home from a friend that wasn’t out with us and made it safely home. I still can’t find my keys from that night. oh yeah awesome thing is that in the shower the next day, the pepper spray reactivates and burns my hands all over again.
Oh yeah and apparently the Rula Bula wouldn’t even let us in to use their bathroom to wash the shit off because we were too drunk according to them. Really guys? Trust me when I say I wasn’t concerned with drinking anymore.
So that is the story of Thanksgiving weekend. Thanksgiving was fine and dandy. I didn’t do any Black Friday shopping because I’m broke and you already know how I feel about that. Plus, people get hurt. A lady pepper sprayed other shoppers in a California Wal-Mart in the name of getting an X-Box. In Buckeye, a guy was arrested because they thought he was shoplifting and then while cooperating, slammed to the ground and had his face split open with blood everywhere. Police still handcuffed him as he was unconscious and bleeding openly. Guess what? He wasn’t shoplifting, he was trying to get his grandson out of the way of the hoards of insane people about to trample him in the name of deals. He put the games under his shirt so he could have his hands free. Why would anyone stand in line all night so they could steal??
I’m not happy with people at this moment. Stupid guys fighting leads to me getting pepper sprayed. I’ve never understood why people feel the need to fight. It’s an ignorant and barbaric act that mostly leads to terrible consequences that may not even affect the perpetrators of the fight. And police, while I respect that they are protecting us, they seem to make a lot of bad judgment calls. I mean shit, at least apologize.
The previous weekend’s bad luck went like this: dropped my friend’s phone in the toilet, the one I was borrowing because mine is not working. Now that phone hardly works. Hours later, I dropped my boyfriend’s phone in a cup of tea. WHO DROPS 2 PHONES IN LESS THAN 6 HOURS?? I was sick that weekend. One of my bikes was stolen from in front of my apartment. Yes, it was locked. Bad, Bad Luck.
So I finally ordered the iPhone 4S, after many failed attempts at doing the reserve process from the Apple Store online, I will wait the 2 weeks until my amazing phone arrives and I can be back to normal phone usage with bonus awesome iPhone usage. When that arrives, prepare for me to Insta-gram the shit out of you.