So, I got back from vacation on Sunday and started back up at work after two months off and I had 687 e-mails and 25 voicemails to catch up on.
I came home and my brain was friend after 7 straight hours of reading e-mails. Literally seven straight hours. I felt like my brain was slowly turning to spaghetti.
I came home and wrote for two hours and ended up with nothing at all. I had the beginnings of three blog posts that I didn’t have the photos to write. I had a bunch of photos with no theme. It was my spaghetti brain feel even more fried.
I even thought I might write a post about overcoming writer’s block or what to do when your brain is fried or when you’re overwhelmed with things. But I had so much of those three things that I couldn’t write an entire blog post about it. It was legit awful.
And double struggle bus bonus: Our apartment is STILL out of Wi-Fi from the storm on the 28th OF JULY. It’s been out almost two whole weeks. So, as soon as I got home from work – I grabbed my laptop and sat at the public library on their SLOW internet for two hours and then we went to Preston’s parents house to write. And still nothing came.
And then I was sitting with Preston and I started telling one of my most famous stories and I decided I would share it with you tonight.
And, I set the featured image as a really cute romper picture. Because I don’t have a photo with this stun gun story situation. So, enjoy me looking like a person that doesn’t accidentally stun gun themselves.
Back when I was in college, I would pretty much do anything for a buck. I mean, did anyone remember the post about me selling my underwear on Craigslist?
But, a bunch of teachers from my high school started this summer/weekend gig that was a type of Uber service (pre-Uber). The basic premise of this company was that you would drive a client home in THEIR OWN car. And then you have a partner in a chase car and they drive you home from the client’s house.
The people who work for this company are a mix of teachers on summer break, college kids home from school, and a few law enforcement people.
Right. So this all makes sense?
So fast forward to this night. We’re working at a wedding. We’re driving home all the drunk wedding guests.
However, the wedding is outside and we are in the UNLIT parking lot.
Put a big post it note on that.
But it was $100 for the night from 10pm-2am PLUS tips. I ended up rolling out with more that $200 for one night. It was a sweeeeeeeeeet gig.
So, we’re standing in the parking lot. People come and sign their name and license number. They start assigning pairs with clients. We’re standing at this table with clipboards and flashlights.
Then this couple comes up to me and I am suddenly the only person at the table. And I’m standing there with big ‘doe in the headlights’ look on my face. I’m doing this as a one night gig and it’s like 10:15. So I have no idea how to sign anyone out, and it’s dark, and these clients….
Pause: This was a traditional, American, country club, summer wedding. Lots of khakis and pastel lace dresses and flowy summer frocks and nautical blazers and stuff. Nothing themed AT ALL.
So these clients walk up to me and Cody (my partner for the night) WEARING FULL SCOTTISH GARB. I mean, like, full kilts and sashes and hats and stuff. And it was a guy who was approx. old enough to be my dad and two sons (also in kilts) and his wife and the sons daughters.
They’re all drunk. Hammered. And they keep asking to stop for food and for cigarettes. There’s some liability with me doing that – so I tell them no.
But anyway – Scotland O’McMalley and his family come up to this table and I have to write all their information down. But, let’s get that post-it note, it’s DARK. It’s late, there’s NO parking lot lights, and really not much moon.
I have my phone flashlight, so I flick that on and turn it around, and I see a BIG ASS flashlight on the table next to all the clipboards. So I’m thinking ‘Oh, hell YES!’ – there’s a big flashlight…perfect for this DARK parking lot.
So I pick up this flashlight and see it has a clicky bottom. You know, some flashlights have switches on the side and some have clicky bottom buttons. This one has a clicky bottom.
My hands are full trying to grab the clipboard and pen, so I bump the big ass flashlight against my hip bone to turn it on without using my other hand.
I bump the flashlight against my hip, I feel the BIGGEST SHOCK in my soul, and crumpled to the ground in this dark parking lot in front of Scotland O’McMalley.
Turns out, one of the law enforcement professionals that was with us, had this combined device of a flashlight…and a stun gun.
Anyone want to take a guess of which side was the stun gun or how you activated it?
Yup.
I totally stun gunned myself trying to prevent drunk driving.
The law enforcement guy apologized profusely and it only stung for a few minutes because it was through my shirt, jeans, and underwear and was only a tap. But it was enough of a shock to literally knock me off my feet.
I’m always a little weary of clicky bottom flashlights.
I hope you found this post illuminating and not too shocking.
I’ll see myself out for that….I’m sorry. That was a twofer joke. Maybe I’m not as fried as I thought. Or maybe I’m fried worse than I thought! Either way.
Please. Comment & tell me an equally dumb thing that you’ve done so that I feel better!
Fun stuff coming up this week! Stay tuned!
SO HERE’S THE “END OF BLOG” SPIEL!
The next few weeks have some awesome stuff planned! I’ll be doing a post with Eleven60, Lady V. London, and as well as more Gwynnie Bee & Society+ stuff, a cosmetic post, some local faves, some lifestyle stuff, and more!
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Thank you for all that you do. You are truly extraordinary.
Love all you wonderful ladies (and gents!) out there!
How Very,
Abby
Penny Darling 