I'm writing this, extremely exhausted after just having gotten in from a four day sixteen hundred mile drive to Long Island and back for a job interview. I've been to New York but never had to drive through it, and after my gps decided that it felt particularly evil, I was forced down 42nd to 2nd Avenue to the Mid Town tunnel on a friday afternoon. There is no particular level of self mutilation I've ever enjoyed, but the masochistic experience that was Manhatten traffic and over eighty dollars in tolls may just bring me to the dark side yet.
The interview was within the company I already do contract work for, it should of felt like a natural fit. Luck woudn't have it, traffic was so bad that the meeting I was promptly headed for and to arive at well before noon, didn't see me untill six. The Interviewer called me at four fourty five to let me know that it just wasn't going to work out if I can't show up on time, to have a great weekend and that my current position would just have to be exactly that. He displayed ttter refusual to believe my, in fairness, ridiculous misfortune. So fuck the garden state and it's shitty turnpike, fuck the midtown tunnel, and fuck being stuck in manhatten for over FOUR HOURS. Better yet I arrived, shaked the hands that I could, and had a quick coke with a few of my "coworkers" before I jumped back into the van defeated to try to drive back to the inlaw's just outside of Philly.
Somewhere in Queens my alternator decided today was the day to die, and I managed to get to Jersey City watching my headlights dim and my radio die. After sitting on the side of the road violently shaking my battery for half an hour, I managed enough juice to limp to a nearby Pep Boys, and attempt to sleep in the van till they opened in eight hours. Jersey then decided to kick me in the nuts with a ridiculous cold snap, and freak snow flurry. It was seventy degrees when I woke up that morning, so I didn't bring my jacket. Most of the bitter morning hours were spent sleep standing in a twenty four hour gas station ran by a very confused Indian man. Every quarter hour I would pay to refill my coffee to justify standing in his shop, untill he eventually ran me out and I found refuge in a greek diner. The cook, Mario was completely compassionate to my story and made an amazing egg sandwhich on sourdough. I'll remember that old bastard for a very long time I'm sure.
So I got my alternator fixed, begrudgingly spent some time with the inlaws, drove home today excited to pet the cat, and finally check my email. Destructoid was a quick click into the usual routine of my usual my internet circles. Philkensebben Mike Martin had Pm'd me to say hey, sloth anus is really funny, heres a free game. So while it dosen't quite make up for one of the worst weekends I've had in recent memory, Saints Row is indeed downloading, and it may just be the power trip i'll need to smile and forget.
So thank you Deep Silver for making such an insane game, and thank you Destructoid for being such a cool bag of wackos who think that Meth addled Sloths are as funny as I do. Bye for now, I think the xbox just beeped.