Thursday, January 15, 2004

Fort Lauderdale or Bust: The Arrival of Hurricane Sassy

Hurricane Sassy Blows Into Town
My Departure from Delaware

by Sassy Esquire

Well - we made it.

Never mind the oil tanker that exploded in front of us when it went careening off the overpass, landing on I-95 (and several other cars) outside of Baltimore. Never mind the apparently random selection of a yellow Ryder truck (just like ours) two cars ahead of us for inspection and detention by State troopers at the toll booth (hey Adria - tell the Feds they picked the wrong truck!). Never mind the complete lack of radio stations playing something other than dial-in religious talk shows and bad country music in South Carolina (oh and car dealership commercials with Arnold Schwarzenegger impersonators: "I came to this country with only a bottle of baby oil and a muscle strap...."). And never mind the very bitter argument between driver and passenger over whether Live is indeed a talented band. (That argument was second only to the one recently recorded between two Delaware room mates over whether Green Bay deserved to be in the play offs....). Never mind all that stuff...we made it in one piece (well, two if you count us as separate individuals). Safe. Sound. And still on speaking terms - although there were a couple of touch and go moments when one of us would threaten to unhitch the Jeep from the towing trailer and drive the rest of the way separately.

Highlights of this trip include: Angela, the night clerk at Holiday Inn Express in Florence, SC, who gave me a free upgrade to a suite with a jacuzzi and an additional $40 off the price; the approximately 124 billboards for "South of the Border" (Chili today, Hot tamale); Ben's discovery that washing down 400 mgs of No Doze with a 20 oz Coke doesn't actually keep him awake; my first time driving a 15' van with a trailer attached during the slalom portion of our journey (miles and miles of construction with narrowed lanes and orange cones outside of Jacksonville); and Ben's phone call to me as we sat in rush hour traffic outside of West Palm Beach (he just wanted to chit chat and see how I was doing...and yes, I was sitting next to him in the cab of the truck...and yes, I answered the phone...and yes, we chatted over the phone for a while). You see, I am accustomed to such phone calls, e.g. Jazzy (my one-time roommate) calling me from across the living room...Jazzy calling me from across the bar....Jazzy calling me from upstairs....(Ed. note: Hey, Jazzy! Have a nice life!).

So...18 hours of drive time and over 1100 miles later, I am now the newest South Florida resident. Yep cabbage. Complete with annoying encounters at the bank while trying to open a checking account, cable installation woes, car insurance increases, and Bar application madness. And I haven't even made my "appointment" to go to the DMV yet! Oy vey!

It's true....people move WAYYYY slower here in South Florida. At the bank this morning, I was tempted to jump over the desk, forcibly remove the clerk by her throat, and type in the information myself (it took her two full minutes to type in my name). And don't get me started on the drivers! Turn signals are apparently optional equipment on most cars and the lanes are only marked as a suggested are free to drive in the middle of the road...slowly...while talking on your phone...and stopping randomly to fix your makeup. I said to Ben, "I am surrounded by retards, old people, and bad drivers. Welcome to f*cking Florida!" He laughed and replied, "Hey - if it wasn't for the fact that we have the best weather in the entire country, I wouldn't live here myself!" Great...(to quote Adam Sandler in "The Wedding Singer") that's information I could have used yesterday!

That all being said, I am happy to report that I don't give a flying fig. You know why? Cuz it's 74 degrees and sunny outside, with a slight breeze coming off the ocean. Who cares about the rest of that stuff? I am drinking a Corona, sporting flip flops and Oakleys, chilling on the back patio, watching the palm trees sway. Changes in latitude...and all that. I think another two months of this weather and I will also be moving slower, having lost every vestige of northeastern impatience (and a few brain cells, I'm sure).

We have hired the Nizzle to help us unload the van tomorrow. (The Nizzle is Ben's nephew and my nephew-in-law-by-proxy-once-removed). Nizzle is willing to work for a ham and cheese sandwich from My Market. We also randomly ran into another friend last night, Peter, who said he would be over to help as well. Peter is willing to work for beer. I guess the truck will get unloaded quick enough. Interestingly, no one has volunteered to find room for my shoes....Where is Imelda when you need her?

Anyway, it's time to take the top of the Jeep and enjoy it! Hellllo Florida!

Tuesday, January 13, 2004

Jazzy Posts A Story

Dateline: Wilmington, Delaware
January 13, 2004

by Jazzy The Finn

Today marks the end of what will long be remembered as the "clubhouse" era in Delaware history. Wire reports confirm what Delawareans already feared to be true: Jo Springer (aliases Sassy, Crackwhore, Clotwhore, Danny Parker, Tom Van Allen, Kylie, Halle, Mitch, and Kevin (or was it Perry?)) was seen making a run for the border today.

Springer reportedly crossed the border late today heading southbound on I-95, in a U-Haul truck with the cryptic phrase "Is that a cattle prod?" emblazoned on the back of the vehicle. There are unconfirmed reports that there was a string bikini tied to the antenna, and that Springer was heard screaming, "Freedom trail to Fort Lauderdale, Florida or bust!" from the front of the truck. One witness reported seeing thousands of shoe boxes strapped to the top of the vehicle and a man wearing a Captain's hat in the front seat next to Springer.

Springer was seen saying goodbye to one of her co-conspirators yesterday, at her city home in Trolley Square. Lala (the tall leggy blonde) was spotted fleeing the residence in tears, following a difficult goodbye. Lala was seen wandering around a K-Mart parking lot later in the day, muttering something about underwear and a to-go cup. Apparently, Lala fled the scene upon overhearing an innocent bystander announce that he thought John Madden had "sausage fingers." Lala is now reportedly at home, packing her bikinis and loading her own U-Haul.

Other persons affiliated with Springer were seen gathering at a local watering hole, Mikimotos, late last night. Most are under investigation by federal authorities, and local federal agent, James Madison, would neither confirm nor deny that Ed "Big Nickel" Kantrell, Danielle "Double Barrel" Grant, Staci "I Want You Back" Hawthorne, June "Get Me Outta Here" Sampson, and Steve "Nips" Rapstar were in attendance.

The Guava Pitt Gazette has been able to confirm that both Double G and Jazzy made an appearance at Mikimotos to wish Springer well. GPG has been unable to confirm, however, whether they were wearing their traditional clubhouse superhero garb.

Double G cut the long goodbye short, presumably to pick up her "children". Friends of Double G say they have never actually met said children, and believe they are a convenient excuse to leave uncomfortable social situations quickly. The Guatamalan, with nerves of steel, managed to exit the location without shedding any tears, realizing that her recent (planned) unemployment meant that frequent trips to South Florida were inevitable.

Jazzy, Springer's former roommate, had to be physically removed from the restaurant by another guest following a painful and teary goodbye. Jazzy could be heard screaming, "You're my boy, Blue!" as she was dragged kicking and screaming from the bar.

Upon arriving at the couple's country home later that evening, Jazzy reportedly made herself one of her signature cocktails (Bacardi Limon and Sprite) and sat in the dark watching some of their favorite TV material: Sports Center, Old School, John Cusack movies, soft core porn, and movies with horses in them. Sources tell us that at one point Jazzy attempted to speak J-Jive with herself, but unable to successfully capture the witty repartee alone, sulked back into the kitchen for more alcohol.

Jazzy is now on suicide watch, and was seen this morning being chained to her desk by an unnamed partner at the law firm where she and Sassy worked together.