|Posted on May 29, 2010 at 12:00 AM|
So we leave Toronto, and I sadly have to ride again with Russ, instead of sitting in the backseat of the lesbos car trying to swindle a threesome out of the deal. Russ was a wild Kentucky guy, I don't think he'd be too happy that the "white trash" asshole helping his step daughter and her girlfriend move to Toronto, had also fucked both of them.
We make a stop at McDonalds outside Toronto, a nice one with a few TVs, and it felt like I stepped into the future. The clerk who worked there brought the food to the table, and the woman behind the counter looked goth. I guess this McDonalds allows people to be like people, instead of like robots and such, something you would not see at McDonalds here in America. But as a white guy in the suburbs of Detroit, I'll never get a job at a fast food joint. Where I live, it's all blacks and retards.
After we are done eating, I once again ask the lesbos if I can ride with them, and once again they tell me no, ride with Russ. Interesting though, that by this McDonalds was a Chinese restaurant that was rather busy with many people in there. Looked like a specialty restaurant.
There was some midnight construction on the 401, plus we saw a guy hitch hiking, kind of interesting to see at midnight. Also, during the ride, Russ offered me to live with him in Kentucky. Besides this, we didn't say shit to each other, instead I enjoyed Canada at night.
We finally arrive at a little town outside Sarina so Russ can fill up. My filthy American money works here, but my Pepsi was almost two dollars based on Canada's high tax.
The Blue Water Bridge came next. I was suspecting the border patrol to be ruthless with me and Russ, but they let us pass with no problem. In fact, the person who approached us was wearing street clothes! I guess the terrorists can sneak past the border easy now. Good thing for us they let us go easily, I didn't want these faggots to pull us over, and shove their hands up my ass. When we hoped the border, my phone worked at One-Thirty in the morning. It was then that I got the message stating that I won't have to work this week after all. Good thing though, as I most likely won't make it home till about three o'clock anyway. Otherwise, I was off for the week. That's bullshit...
About ten miles with our entrance to America, Russ stopped to get gas again. I don't know what the fuck for, but he needed gas for some strange reason. Since his truck has two gas tanks, I guess he forgot to fill the other one up. We stopped at a gas station in Marysville, a little town south of PO-HO.
Now, we get back on I-94, we pass Twenty-Three Mile Road (another road mentioned in The Thirteen Years Of Gray), and I thought about asking Russ why he didn't listen to me in Canada while on the busy street fucking around with the trailer door not closing. Even if he kicked me out, I was in familiar territory now, and could easily get home. But two issues stopped me. One, I still didn't get paid, and two my car was parked in Ferndale at the other house. Who knows, he might have torched my car or some shit, so I didn't trouble him with any questions.
At least he didn't forget where we came from, because at Two-Thirty am, I was back in Ferndale. Me and the dikes went into the house while Russ was fixing the trailer door. When asked how much should I get paid, I said two hundred and fifty dollars. Sadly, they gave me one hundred and fifty dollars instead stating that all I did was some manual labor, and ride with Russ.
I did in a way, think I should be compensated for putting up with Russ's mental issues. Without screaming or yelling, I'd put up with a lot of shit from Russ, and I should have got a little something extra.
As I was leaving, Silvia asked me if I was available the next day, which would most likely be at Ten o'clock AM, seven hours from now.
Without turning my head, or stopping, I said, "Just give me a call."
I walked out the door disgusted with myself for doing this job, and for saying to them to give me a call. But, I could turn my phone off for the whole day.
As I walked to my car, Russ stopped me, and said, "do you want my number? If it get's too bad here, you can live with me in Louisville."
Now why would I do that? I put up with this prick long enough. I didn't even answer, and got into my car, happy to hear it start up then I drove home.
I arrive back to Saint Clair Shores, which is empty at Three AM with only a few places open. A donut shop, and a few 7-11s and the famed Linda's Place.
I got home at Three-Fifteen in the morning. Everyone at my house was sleeping. I took a shower and got into bed, and watched Family Guy on Adult Swim. For some reason, after a long and exhausting day in Toronto, I just couldn't sleep.
I shut off the TV and left the fan running. Sadly, Retarded Russ's voice was still in my head. I tossed and turned trying to get some fucking sleep, but I couldn't. I was up till Five in the morning, which is when the gas station opens. I get out of bed wishing Russ's voice was gone, and that the actress Julianne Moore was in my bed holding me, kissing me, telling me everything was alright, and that she was sorry for everything that happened.
But that won't happen. I was working at a plastics company, and make eight dollars and fifty cent an hour, I drive a shitty car, and I live with my mom. You can't find a decent woman with three hundred dollars a week while living at home with your mom. I don't think Julianne Moore is going to make a scumbag like me happy, all i could offer her is my big Ten Inch.
The only thing you can get is a fat trailer park slob or a girl like my brother dated at the time, very attractive and could find herself a guy with lots of cash. However, she had a very low self-esteem issue.
I walk to the gas station where my pal is working and I told him the same story I am telling you now (wow, you've got this far?). He felt sorry that I had to deal with Russ the retard, and his voice stuck in my head. I ate breakfast (Grandma's Cookies and Milk), and went back to bed, and fell asleep around Five Forty-Five in the AM.
I awoke at Ten-Thirty AM, checked my phone to satisfy my curiosity if the dikes called, no messages. If they did call, they most likely didn't leave a message. Like I could give a shit anyway. I bet Natalie said, "I don't think I want that piece of white trash helping us again."
And no matter how broke I am, I'll never do this shit ever again. You'd think two professional female lawyers (or on the way to becoming lawyers) would have it together. But in their defense, it wasn't them who were idiots. It sure was the retarded family member that screwed it all up.
There's one in every family...