Sunday, December 18, 2011

geek stories: the worst New Years ever

Remember all that flap about Y2K?

I do. But mainly I remember it as The Worst New Year's Eve Ever.

I was at my first post-college job, and I hadn't yet grown savvy to certain social conversations. For example, when your boss asks if you have any New Years plans, you say YES, or else you will be babysitting.

I stopped at Publix for supper-- a sandwich, a Cherry Coke, and a box of cupcakes for the kids, because I hadn't yet connected sugar with insanity in those under the age of 20. Back in the car, I was depressed at being single and not knowing anyone and annoyed at myself for getting hornswaggled into babysitting. I was driving fast, singing along with Cowboy Mouth, drinking my Cherry Coke.

And that's when a German Shepherd ran out into the road, right into my car.

It was the most sickening crunch ever, and I squealed my brakes and ran off the road into a field. It was dusk, and it was cold, and I was covered in Cherry Coke, as was my brand new purple Honda Civic, Trigger. I walked up and down the field, venturing into the woods as far as I could see, calling, "Here, doggie! Here, boy! Please tell me I didn't kill you, because I'll never be able to live with myself!"

But I never found the dog, and I never found any blood. I even stopped in the same place the next morning, but there was no sign that anything had happened.

I spent Y2K near tears on my boss's couch, wishing that I had a boyfriend and just regular friends and the ability to lie so that I could have spent that night being depressed on my own terms in the basement apartment where I was living. I woke up in my boss's spare bedroom the next morning with a lion on my chest.

Okay, so it was really a ginger Persian cat *shaved* like a lion, but it was surprising nonetheless.

And what did I learn?

1. Always make plans for New Years or learn to lie about it.
2. Don't drink Cherry Coke.
3. The world didn't end on Y2K.
4. It's good to have friends.
5. Keep your dogs inside.
6. If you have a ginger Persian, you should shave it as a lion.

If you live on King Road and your German shepherd came home hurt almost twelve years ago, I'm so sorry. Please consider an electric fence.



Kari Lynn Dell said...

Urk. Do I remember Y2K. I have a brother in law who is a disaster junkie and he went all out. I'm pretty sure they're still working on using up all of the bottled water and canned goods he hoarded in anticipation.

As for the dog: there was this very large, very scary pit bull that ran around loose where we lived in Oregon. It kept harassing our roping calves, despite my husband's best efforts to discourage it with a BB gun.

One night we heard a ruckus and went out to find he had a couple of them cornered and bleeding from various bite wounds. That was the last straw. It didn't end well for the dog, but then my husband realized it was wearing a choke collar and there were some pretty unsavory, cooking-meth-in-the-oven types in our neighborhood and he really didn't want one of them to get bent out of shape because he'd shot their dog.

So the point of all this is yes, actually, I HAVE dug a shallow grave by the light of the moon, in case you need to interview someone with firsthand experience.

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Anonymous said...

That was the New Year's where I picked up a hitchhiker who pulled a gun on me. Ah, Lafayette. What a town!