TOTALLY LOST MY COOL LAST NIGHT: We had a big day yesterday in Savannah. Ended the night out with a chumpy ghost tour in one of those modified hearses. Fun, right? Sure. So we load into the thing, the final two people in a tour group of eight.
I sit down and a rather loud, woozy blonde girl up front says something about being the tour guide, to weak laughter from the other people around her. Well, nice to meet you, dumb ass.
So we get going, and are treated to valley girl guffaws along the lines of, “Shut up. Noooo way.” To each and every story. In fact, it got so bad, so quick, I couldn’t hear the tour and people were squirming. I motioned to Leigh that of all tours, we had to climb in with this hunk of shit? We’re treated to existential ponderings, at full volume, along the lines of, “Do you think…like….dogs and…like, animals and children see ghosssssts?” in her high pitch, “End every other word with a higher note” speaking mode.
Well, it goes on for another four or five stops, and the back window of the hearse pops open. The tour guide pulls over, runs back to tighten the window down and the “partying” turd starts in on me. “What about you back there? Do you believe in ghooooossts…I’d like it if you would…”
And I lose my shit, and unload a FUCKING BARRAGE on the princess: “I’d like if it you would shut up just long enough so I can hear the FUCKING TOUR. Shhhhh. You. (Pointing at her.) Shhhhh. You are ruining this tour with your “Ohhhhhh Myyyyyy Gawwwwd” bullshit. It’s only fair. We are trying to listen to the tour.”
Something poetic like that. I went nuts. She was dumbfounded, dazed, and just sat still. Looking at me with doe eyes, completely silent. Her banker boyfriend remains mum. Leigh hides with her head down in her lap, laughing. The tour goes silent.
Fuck it. I’m tired of people wrecking shit around me. So I let her have it. And she quiets down. They are drunk, dumb, WASP-ish people from New York City, and could give a shit less if their “partying” is a bummer to everyone around them. Well, it was.
So the tour ends and of course, we drop off the rows of people separating our warring parties. And of course, we have a nice, long ride back to our respective drop-off points, staring at each other. The Wall Street guy tried to “make nice” with us and Leigh smooths shit over. I keep my cool. He asks about cemeteries. Leigh says she likes a big cemetery in Paris. He agrees. And of course, little drunky prom queen suddenly isn’t the center of attention, and gets mad, and starts going off on her helpless date. The guy looks at me with a sad set of “I didn’t sign on for this shit” eyes. “You don’t even know me. Not once have you spoken to me about Paris…” she says, visibly upset, really letting the guy have it. I didn’t have an ounce of sympathy for the guy, Quite a prize, bud! Good, solid choice, that little nightmare.
Anyhoo, we were dropped off, I gave a couple dirty looks them both and she exclaimed, “What-everrrrr, No. I mean, really. Whatever…” squealing to her lucky date, as the door closed and they drove off.
Making friends in Savannah!
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