Saturday, May 8, 2010

Does everything have to break right before I leave?

I've got this friend back home. I guess I can't really say that because he lives in Colorado, but he is my best friend and we talk everyday. We've had this running joke for years now about how the two of us have the worst luck in history. We really, really do. One time, he fell asleep at the wheel and totaled his car. A week later, he was riding his bike and got a DUI for having a head-on bike collision with another dude. He didn't suffer a single scratch when he literally flipped his car upside down, but left the scene of his bike accident with broken bones. Another time, before he moved to Colorado, he got overly excited in the parking lot of a bowling alley and tossed a bottle of Gatorade into the air. The bottle managed to land in the middle of a group of beat-to-shit hoopdies of teens who were all bowling late night, bounce once, and hit this sparkling red trans-am whose owner I knew to have just purchased it as his dream car. The alarm went off and I ran away, laughing hard enough that I choked on my drink and coughed for literally an hour.

I should have expected that after being placed in the haunted apartment, everything would break with only days left before I was scheduled to leave. We've had some serious bad luck in the apartment. Besides for being killed nearly every day by our resident ghost Mimi, we've had our shower burst and our sink spew up foul-smelling chicken water all over our freshly washed dishes. Within minutes there was a lake of yellow, putrid nastiness all over our floor and because our kitchen sink was broken, we had to wash our dishes in the bathtub. This was mid-semester. Somehow, our bad luck increased exponentially before we checked out. Our kitchen sink, which after the chicken water incident had been fixed, broke again. Now, whenever it turns on, water doesn't come out of the faucet. No, it shoots in all directions from underneath the faucet. Our shower decided it was going to blow up, also. Water would come out of it in spurts, angrily and in every direction, effectively drenching every inch of the bahtroom. Showers became a kind of nuissance in those last few days. Our toilet also managed to break. One must now take the lid off the the toilet, stick their hand into the years and years of neglected bathroom maintenence that is the flushing system, and pull on a slimy black wire to remove your excrement from the bowl. I always took for granted the If it's yellow let it mellow rule, but I was a firm believer in that last week of I lived there.

Finally, I went to do my last load of laundry before leaving Florence. I got all of my laundry done, and as I was putting my things into the dryer, I saw at the bottom of the washer my student cellphone. I wasn't worried, though, because various friends of mine this semester have damaged their phones with water. They are these old Nokia's that still have snake and are basically indestructible. All I had to do was put it in a bowl of rice overnight. I did. My cellphone never worked again. With only a few days left of school, I managed to break my cellphone. My luck here in Florence has definitely run out.
Arrivederci, for now.
Love, Gabby

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