A True Tale of Survival and Courage and Stuff

It all began in a time much different than now. A time about 15-20 minutes ago.

My car desperately needed an oil change. Like, “Okay Miss have you ever heard of treating things properly?” level of desperate. Like, the kind of desperate where even that one mechanic who somehow always manages to eat a PB & J sandwich while changing a tire still has time to look up and give you judgey-mechanic-glances, level of desperate. You get the idea.

So this morning I get my helpless, hungover body out of bed and go to the his-wife-made-that-sandwich-eating mechanic who will make all my wildest dreams come true with this 56 dollar oil change. My older brother promised to pick me up, that was the deal. But then the worst thing imaginable happened.

I call and tell him it’ll take a whole HOUR and that obviously he needs to come get me because what am I? On the f***ing cast of Survivor??? How would I last if I can’t even get a simple oil change when the little sticker tells me to????

jack black

My once beloved brother tells me to just wait until it’s done and to “Look around Walmart or something.” I can’t believe my ears. Does he think I’m some kind of peasant? Some kind of nature-forager who can just live without a car and merely a laptop at 20% battery life?? I can’t live off the natural land like that.

After a brief moment of plotting revenge on his life (giving him an even more mediocre Christmas present this year) I begin the journey that will change my life.

People often tell me that I exaggerate things a lot. Probably about 3 million people have told me that. I mean, 5 million people can’t be wrong I guess, but to those 9 million people, I say no. No, I do not exaggerate. I just have a vivid imagination and the ability to keep myself entertained for pathetically long amounts of time. So sue me.

Anyway, I begin to scavenge my way through the Walmart parking lot, looking for signs of life and making friends with the seagulls on this here land. They are my people now.

These seagulls would never abandon me like my own flesh and blood did. Okay the seagulls just flew away but that’s cool, they probably went to go get help. They’ll be back.

I’m walking through the overgrown land as passengers of clearly-recently-oil-changed-cars drive by looking at me with judgemental eyes. Also, it could just be because, as it turns out, I’m walking through a decorative garden in the middle of an intersection.

It also really doesn’t help that in my having rushed to the mechanic early this morning while super hungover, I didn’t exactly try to look my best. And by that I mean, I absolutely look like a homeless person, or maybe just somehow who’s never seen the inside of a shower. There’s mascara on places of my face that don’t even really make sense, and also probably the lingering scent of regret that I feel from eating that hot dog last night. Just kidding Hot Dog, you were great last night

After trying on really hilariously ugly clothes (like come on, who wears this? I look like a knight from the middle ages. And yes I’m barefoot. This is my life now) at a nearby Winners, more like Losers considering what I currently look like… (that was a good joke, I don’t care what people say)

… I then wandered my innocent, lost soul into the nearby McDonald’s.

At first I thought it was a golden-arch looking mirage, but then I remembered that there literally is a McDonald’s in every nook and cranny on this here Earth. You know the guy (James Franco) that cut off his arm ‘cause he was desperately trapped between 2 rocks? Well, I feel like he probably only did that to score some tasty McNuggets ‘cause I guarantee there was probably a McDonald’s within an arm’s reach (pun very intended).

Anyway, this brings us to present time. Here I am in a McDonald’s.

Still waiting.

Abandoned.

Car-less.

Laptop at 15%.

Hungry.

Homelessy-looking.

I look out the window and see two female humans in their natural habitat sitting in the drive-thru. They’re singing to what I assume is a Fetty Wop song, or whatever. The one friend is Snapchatting the driver’s dance moves. I shed a single tear thinking of the innocent people that will have to watch that severely lame Snapchat video for a whole 10 seconds. The dance moves were so “basic” that I rummage through the land here, find some ketchup, and manage to write out “S.O.S” across the table.

Hopefully someone sees this.

I’m sure those seagulls will.

They’re just really busy right now but they’ll be back for me.

I like the workers here at McDonald’s because they don’t judge you. Even when you sit in their restaurant writing up some ridiculous story, laughing at your own jokes, they don’t judge. Even when you get a sugar-free iced coffee so that you can look like you swear you don’t eat McDonald’s ever, they smile at you and kindly say things like: “Can I help the next in line please?”

Full disclosure: I had a Big Mac last night. I just can’t keep that from you guys, from my memoirs. I feel that Michelle, the leader of her clan here at McDonald’s, knows that about me. She has a way of reading people. I’m really just glad I had one big hefty meal within the past 12 hours in case I never see food again because of the whole being recklessly abandoned thing. By the way, it’s now been exactly 1 hour and 23 minutes. That’s 83 minutes. I’m a little ashamed that I used the remaining battery life on my iPhone to calculate what 60 + 23 was. Being abandoned in the wilderness affects your mathematical skills, among other things.

I wonder what life will be like if I ever get to leave this McDonald’s and go back to civilization and car-driving world. Will I get to eat real food again? Will people seek the tales of my survival story?? Will those seagulls keep in touch???

Okay, forget everything that’s been said here. The mechanic just called. Car’s good to go.

Moral of the story, don’t ever get an oil change.

And also, don’t trust seagulls. They’re just about as loyal as older brothers.

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