I’m sick. AGAIN. Yeah, this time around it’s just your common cold. But it makes me grumpy and I can’t focus on something for more then 5 minutes. I try to do 75 things at once… and end up doing none of them.

Also, sorry for not posting the second part of the story quickly, i’m just too sick to care hahaha. Well, i’ll try to make it really quick and easy this post (though this was the “funny” part)

Let Me Out Of Here !! Part II

So me, Martine and my cousin get out of the swing club and towards my car. As usual, I have a craving for strawberry milkshake (I don’t know… there seems to be a mental link between strawberry milkshake and swing in my head… eh.). So, we went straight to the McDoh. 6 $ laters (1$ for the hobo at the the door that guilted me into giving him some cash… Rah.) we were off to get the car.

I parked into a indoor shopping-center parking lot. I love those. 6 $ and no hassle about finding a spot and all. Thing is, I tried a new one this time… and Mart and I (cousin went her way to her car) that the sign next to the door says “From 6 am … to 12 pm“. It was 12h10. With a surprised look, Mart looked at me and said “… You’re car is trapped in there for the night. Omg.”. Half a heartbeat passed until I went… “FUCK!!!!” Immediately, fished my cellphone in my pants. It was barely alive. It had a battery line (you know the dreaded red little bar that makes you go “Damn! I should’ve charged it…”). Call my cousin in utter panic trying to explain where we are and what happened. With a sigh, she agrees to come pick us up (she was 2-3 streets away). As soon as I hang up, the big door opens (a car was comming out of it). Still tweaking from the earlier adrenaline, I scream at Mart: “Stay here and wait for my cousin! I’ll get the car!” as I leave my ex-gf on a street corner in a 50’s kind of dress (that was very stupid… but thank god nothing happened).

So I dive under the door (apparently, my head was an inch away from bumping on it) and start running in the parking lot. I thought to myself, there might be a delay on the door for it to open when a car comes close… Fetch the keys, start the car and drive to the underground gate. Problem #1: There is NOBODY in sight and a closed gate in front of me. The toll booth is empty with a big electronic sign that says “CLOSED”. I’m thrilling on adrenaline so I decided “Fuck it! I’m leaving this shit hole.” so I put my cash on the electronic sign (even when i’m being completely irrational, I’m respectful of the law… hahaha) and slowly advance my car under the plastic/wood gate. Contrary to most hollywood movie, it did a little like at the car wash, following the curves of my car (I checked later and the push was so soft that it barely moves the little dirty I had on my car. Nice.).

Fuckin’ a! I passed the problem so I begin to jolt towards the big main gate (the one I dived under earlier on)… just to find out that… It won’t open. At all. Nothing. Nada. Zit! My cousin keep trying to call me on my cell, but now I can pick it up (since I wasn’t under the ground anymore… just stuck behind that blasted door). In an utterly desperate voice, I try to explain to her that i’m stuck inside the parking lot behind the door. I remember screaming and swearing a lot… I even tried physicly to push the door up… I also tried to find a button or something without any success. But right then… RIGHT THEN (after 2 minutes of utter and complete freak-out) a guard appears from behind a little window about 7 feets up off the floor. He knocks like crazy asking me “What the fuck are you doing here!” (or something like that). But as I try to answer, he dissapears from my sight! ARGH!

Here’s the painful part; I hear a kind-of-french grumble (spoken by the spanish-looking guard) from comming from “the intercom”. Not knowing where the hell it is, I start screaming the response to the questions that I can barely understand… He must’ve thought I was crazy since I was running around trying to know where the hell does the voice came from. After a minute of complete misunderstanding and unclear questions, I find the little box (that was in plain sight the whole time). It’s loud… VERY loud. After I back up from it and notice that the guy has horrible french , I try talking to him in english. Here we go… that’s a bit better! But after a couple of question about how I came up and which door I used (didn’t get that one… I still don’t.) the noise dissapears. Just RIGHT THEN… another car slowly comes up the ramp behind me. Thank god, he didn’t come 3 minutes earlier between my crazy screaming and running around. But if he did 4 minutes ago, that would’ve been very helpful.

As I start mumbling fast question at the guy in the car like “do you have the key to open the door? I just want to get OUT OF HERE!” … the guard finally opens the main door. With a little relief, I walk towards my car. I can’t even sit down in it before the guards almost jumps in front of it.

“How did you get out ?!”
“Well, I went under the gate… I even left money and …”
“What?!? Did you break it?”
“No! No! There was enough space for me to squeeze under.”
“Alright, come back down.”
“WHAT!” (at this point I though he was going to say “You have to leave your car here for the night … since it’s locked… bla bla blah”)
“I want to make sure that the gate ain’t broke”
With huge relief “Oh that ? Pft, sure.”

So, I get out to let the other car behind me get out. As I do, I give a hand sign to Martine to wait a minute. She’s still waiting for me at the corner street and looks at me very with a very confused look as I do a U-turn to get back down that god awful ramp (thank god it was a secondary street and not st-catherines… There was still enough people for it to be safe without to many crazies or drunks. As we were right next to that church near laBaie I was scared that she would get heckled by drunk jackasses…). In I was, AGAIN. I drive back down to the first stupid plastic gate. This time, there’s another car waiting there… TO PAY. So, I wait my turn behind the guy and see the guard running down, taking the money, and waiving the other car to go.

My turn! I drive up to the guy. Completely busted on adrenaline, I start explaining what I did, where I put the money, how I squeeze under and of course, how scared I was of being stuck inside. After checking my ticket, seeing the little pile of money on the thing, he looks at me. I think he was relieved that I wasn’t somekind of car-stealer or tweaked out kid. He looked at me and said:

“You do know you almost bumped your head on the main door, right?” … God, he saw me get in.
“You’re pretty legal for a guy who snuck in (playing with the 6 $ I left on the thing) … but next time, use the night entrance…“

As I drove away, I couldn’t laugh because I was so stressed out and still a bit in panic… but…

THERE WAS AN UNLOCKED DOOR ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE FUCKING PARKING LOT !!!!

So I picked up a laughing Martine (well she laughed after I explained a little. I mean she did spend 15 minutes waiting on a street-corner alone without too much of a clue about how i’m freaking out inside…) and slowly, VERY slowly, drove back home with a raging headache and painful feet (I had to run/jump/etc. in my 2tones Dr.Martens swing shoes… the same shoes I wore all night to dance). Also, since I was pumping adrenaline, I didn’t notice my very painful left ankle (I couldn’t even participate in the swing contest this week-end )

The lesson I pulled from all of this?

There is no locked underground parking lot.

They just close the ENTRY door after a certain hour. Dumbass.

Wow, I wanted to make this short… but this is VERY long hahaha. If you read it, leave me a comment. Like do you like that kind of stupid-blog adventure thing? Or you like better my article and such. Talk to me people!

I wrote this so long ago… it was an english assignment and … I completely went overboard. The teacher gave me 90 % and a really weird look. I notice now that the writting isn’t as consistent as it should … oh well.

Depressed, he turned to his favorite sin; Lust.

He slowly walked the wet alleys of September. Every corner, watched by some drug addicted lightposts, shading barely enough light so that he could direct himself throught the dark maze. Everything he laid eyes on was blurred and confused. Some of the burning and smoking barrels begged him for some coins to eat. Others simply begged for alcohol. Unfortunately for them, all the alcohol he had, he had abused already. His incredibly disgracious way of walking and the heavy odour that laid in his clothes were the best proof he could provide. He wasn’t able to notice the difference between the cry and the scream of the night from the wet reunion of his black leather shoes and the cold cement.

After walking for two kilometers, opening three doors, stumbling 1 set of creaky wooden stair and passing 37 lucious lips, all offering a poor quality service, he arrived in the forbidden and disguting path to sick pleasure. His sick pleasure. A rather unique chemical smell greeted him. It wasn’t bad… it was horrible. The walls creeped slowly next to him. To his demise, he would be forced to embrace them sometime to prevent a reunion between his lips and the nasty carpet. Some dim lighted, and almost ripped from their owner, lamps were showing him the path to his relief. Doors sometimes greeted with a whimper or a not-so-distant cry of pleasure. Most of them were dead silent. Dead silent. Surprised and shocked by a muffled scream, he laid eyes on the floor in somekind of shame. He kept them there, just to be sure not to be involved. The rug snailed slowly under his feet. He stomped his way throught the corridor, creating a small city of dry mud footsteps behind him. Here and there were stains. “Are those Coffee or blood ?” his mind scratched. “Ugh!” was the usual answer. Due to age and use, the rug couldn’t contain the yells of every wooden floorboard. They took every chance they could to cry their age and boredom.

And at last, he was there. 7.4 feet away from his relief.

A mountain of flesh and muscles and a heavy metal door (both deprived of human intellect) were the ONLY THINGS, that stood in his way. The price was slim. Only costed him 133 hours of slavery work to pay this little gift to himself. The moutain moved aside opening the door to paradise.

They were there. As he had been told, the four goddess laid in front of him, waiting. He didn’t even hear the sound of the closing door. He barely heard the muffled growl of the fleshy moutain; “You have 4 hours.” the voice echoed throught the metal. He didn’t dare to move, afraid of vomiting or simply waking up from this heaven-sent present. As a blistering idiot, he stood there silently in awe in front of four beautiful half naked women. He was wasting more than precious (and costly) seconds. He knew it. He didn’t care. The cold statues suddently came alive all at once. The room was still, silently waiting around them. Was he deaf ? The room was the opposite of the hallway; Clean, cries-less and decorated with very good taste (if you were a rich and in heat). Within a few floating seconds and a blink of a almost closed eye, he was laying on the soft bed. All he could do was stare while his skin went burning and his hands drooled sweat. He was no longuer master of his own body. He still felt the presence of numbing alcohol, but the sickness slowly dissapeared. They moved around him like snakes, swiftly wrapping their victim with their cold soft skin. He felt their hot breath on his arms. Then his torso. And finally, his neck. Their fingers roamed freely. He noticed that the blond seemed to be the leader of this… “Goddess Gang”. Like a lieutenant, she directed every girls of their positions with only a quick glance. She would occassionally touch them, but the movement was abrupt, almost violent. His vision was so blurry, he could barely look at her. His attention was immediately stolen back to the amazingly beautiful brown-haired woman. She stranded him like a blanket wrapped too tight. She lowered herself, inches away from his face. Hypnotizing him with her wet anxious lips and her deep green eyes. Bottomless pits, they seemed. He was totally lost in pleasure and passion. He closed his eyes smilling.

The alarm ringed. Fingers crushed against his eyes. A few hurtful blink. Time to go to work.