Not an uplyfting post

I had to head out early. It was a surprise party and I wanted to be in the party that surprised, not in the one that made it fifteen minutes after everyone was in. I had planned it right too, an hour before the scheduled time, I started getting ready, packed my bags, earbuds, everything. I wanted to look nice because the evening before at SS's, I had looked like a round-bottom uncle against a Veela, didn't want a repeat of that.

I put on my good Peacoat, my only one actually, but I do love it so. I think -- I'm not sure -- that it may have buttons on the wrong side, but I'm so used to mistakenly buying and wearing clothing meant for women for years before realizing it that I don't even care. Let's pretend its about the fight against capitalism and gender standards for clothing, and there is some of that but really it's mostly due to what an unrelenting buffoon I am.

The Peacoat is nice, and so is the plaid shirt that I put on underneath, the corduroy pants I put on are perhaps the best of the bunch I have. It was a perfect uniform for a party. My shoes matched the color of my belt, my hair didn't look like I had just gotten up (that I had), and everything was faaaain. Fine in not the 'meh, ok' way but in the more 'that giirl is fiiine' approach. I wanted to cherry the top, a finisher, so to speak. Comes my shawl, muffler, scarf, what-have-you. It's grey in color, it's soft to touch, and I feel I'm classy when I put it on. I put it on.

The thing about putting the muffler on is, you need to put it on right. You don't want to look like someone just jumped off the boat, stole a piece of fabric from a well-dressed gentleman, and decided to strangle your neck with it like Shiva and his snake. You want to convey intention. Planning. Poise. A certain finesse, if I may. Haah. This man cares, you want the commoners to think, how else would he have the muffler in the perfect orientation even though he just finished a half-marathon? He's dying of exhaustion and dehydration, but look at what an effing beautiful corpse that's going to make! Anyway, that was the thinking behind me spending twenty minutes fixing it. When I say twenty minutes, it could be somewhat of an exaggeration -- it was probably not exactly twenty minutes, but it sure felt that way. For before it I was well ahead of the schedule. After it, I was running quite behind.

I'd be five minutes late. I texted PD. She said don't be too tooo late though. I was worried. Someone who dressed up that well would never be too late. Or huffing and puffing to make the bus-train-bus connections. It would take me 35 minutes in 89 bus and the red line trains. I looked up Lyft, and it said it'd get me there in 25. Actually, I texted back to her, I'll be a little early, I said. She replied: okay, keep waiting at the table, I'll be out to get the balloons. A King I felt like, making it to a surprise party before the organizer.

The Lyft arrived almost on time. Good feels. We drove out, my charioteer ready to drive me to victory. To validate my impeccable planning and taste, I kept checking the arrival time. Way before the original planned time. What a win! High in my spirits, I was fixing my coat collars -- winners pop their collars is my understanding -- when something was off. The driver made a u-turn. Uh oh. I knew where this was headed. I checked my app. Adding another rider. Five minutes added to the trip.

No matter, I'd still make it on time. I wouldn't make it before the hosts now, important well-planned people get right on the dot. Not a big loss. As we drove towards Powderhouse roundabout, my heart began sinking, though. One, they just had road construction work finish there, so the quality of the roads was not the best. And second, that roundabout is the worst. By which I mean, I'm told it's one of the most dangerous traffic circles in MA. I've been told repeatedly by my driving friends that no one seems to understand how to drive there, and it's like driving in a different country there.

Shit.

The diversion, if we could call it that, added four minutes the trip. It wouldn't be the end of the world. I mean, yes, I'd be late for the party, but so would everyone else. And besides, it's Boston, everyone understands how driving in Boston is like. If they didn't plan for slack, it's not my fault. I was still running ahead of my original train schedule by a couple of minutes, so it was no loss for anyone. I had paid a lot of money (it was an expensive shared right, annoyingly so), for the pleasure of being driven and getting there before the public transport. Things would be good.

And so they were. We picked up the first person, and drove down towards Davis. Until the feared rrrringg that the Lyft drivers get. Second pickup for the driver. He made another U-turn, and we drove towards Ball Square. I was palpitating. Four minutes added to the trip. At best, I would be as quick as if I'd taken the train.

The consolation was that both my co-riders didn't make us wait for more than 10 seconds. I hoped that luck would be with me through the traffic too. Alas, it was not to be. Traffic near Porter was heavy, so so was it near Harvard Square. By this time, I had given up. I wouldn't update anyone about how late it was, because it'd be embarrassing. If I'd just taken a train like a normal person, I'd have gotten there reasonably late. And here I was, like a buffoon caged inside a thousand-kilo metallic box, unable to control my fate, unable to do anything about the impending delay and embarrassment.

I got there ten minutes later than I would have if I'd taken the train. I texted my roommates about the frustration. It wasn't just the fact that I got there late, it was also that I paid a lot of money for the opportunity to have been late. It was incredibly annoying. I deleted the app as I was in the car, vowing to myself to never use ride-sharing services until absolutely needed. Uber/Lyft are like public transport, but (with few exceptions) for stupid people, I texted my roommates. I was done. Ready to apologize to the annoyed group of friends who were probably waiting for me outside in the cold. A lot of places don't let you in if you don't have your entire group.

I was the only one there, besides PD who was organizing this, and she was comfortably seated in our place. We waited for 20 more minutes for the next person to arrive, 30 for the group to assemble. Ah well.