Recreational language

Who needs alcohol and recreational drugs when I’ve got ‘B’idney to entertain me for hours on end. I don’t smoke, drink, or do drugs. When I fill out doctor forms with the above questions, it’s really easy. I just slash ‘no’ with my pen all the way down that part of the questionnaire. And I don’t usually curse either. It’s unladylike. That was until ‘B’idney came along. Wonders never cease with this beautiful, little, fist sized organ.

My day is pretty uneventful. I shuffle around the house trying to get little things placed in order. I head out to pick up my car, which is getting some new brakes and a little TLC from our favorite mechanic. I decide to fill up on gas on my way home in preparation for my hour plus drive tomorrow down to San Diego, California  for my doctor appointments. Should have procrastinated the fill up till tomorrow morning.

I am contently sitting in my car at Costco, waiting for the gas pump to  finish vomiting its gaseous juices into my car, when out of the corner of my eyes, I see this ginormous SUV invading my car’s personal space. Closer…closer…oh nooo you don’t…SKKREEEEECH!!! 

The feeling of content vaporizes in an instant as I swing open my car door, arms raised like I’m going to catch the winning touchdown to Superbowl, as this testosterone filled language exhales out my mouth in the form of, “What the f*^$ did YOU just do??!!” People three stalls over are looking now. I’d like to think it is the sound of metal  on metal and not my musical sing-songy voice of obsenity that turned them on.

(GASP) I am having an out of body experience. Everything is in slow motion and I look down on myself in shock. Did I really just drop the F-bomb? Who am I? What would Jesus Do? Well, thank goodness I’m not Jesus today.

“You’ve got to be f*$%^n kidding me. How do you take out a parked car at 5 mph?!” I say this more under my breath to myself than for the Ruh-tard (The Hangover) to hear. A little,old, proud Chinaman gets out of his car. Speaks close to no English and looks at the damage. No remorse. No apology. (Say, where is that penis clamp when I need it? Note: Exit Only blog below.)

(GASP) I re-enter into my body and feel the…anger. I hate Asian drivers. I can say this because I am Asian-American, and I’ve had ‘my people’ attempt to take me out and anything within a 50ft radius of their car in more than one occasion.  Actually, ‘Chi-merican’ is what my cheeky British friend calls me.  The difference being that I am a good driver, who sometimes drives faster than necessary, but I’ve never hit nor taken anyone  out. Haro? If you can’t speak English and you can take out a parked car going 5  mph, maybe you should downsize to a tricycle.

My doctor’s were very adamant about me not driving so soon,  fearing sudden braking, swerving or an…accident would jeopardize ‘B’idney. Well, I was doing pretty well if I do say so myself. Seriously, who the hell gets hit while in a parked car…at a gas station? Again with the language. Sorry. This vocabulary is such a strange concept. I have been known to reprimand my close friends who speak foully. I even discussed with Brian, ‘B’idney’s previous owner, who replied, “What?! Perhaps I should have mentioned that might happen.” Can I retrain a 34 year old kidney? But of course. Baby steps. I must admit as shocking as it was for me, it was kind of liberating for a moment.

So, although the incident…sucked, I guess the bright side is that ‘B’idney wasn’t injured, and neither was I. That’s the important thing. Could have been worse. Much worse.