I knew the day was going to blow when I stood outside FOR TWO HOURS waiting for a bus that never came (even though the woman I spoke to at gotriangle.org’s trip planner hotline (AS WELL AS THE SCHEDULE ON THEIR WEBSITE) told me that the bus comes by the stop every 20 minutes). So I said “screw this, I’m driving”.
AND THEN I GET TO WORK.
The machine that I had imaged the day before? Forget it–the image was corrupt, so I had to re-image the blasted thing again. *sigh* So I reimaged the damn thing and took it back down to the office I got it from.
At noon, I tuned in to NHL Live and listened to EJ Hradek give Don a Merlin Hat (”You’ll read e-mails when I tell you to read e-mails”). And I looked forward to getting home and watching the rebroadcast at 5:00 so I could laugh again before the game came on at 7:00 (since I wound up not being able to go to the game like I had planned to).
YEAH, LIKE THAT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN.
I get home. It’s 5:30–and the DVR is scrolling the following message:
PLEASE CONTACT YOUR OPERATOR.
What the…? So I call Time Warner and wait on hold for half a damn hour.
WTF? My account should be paid up, why am I disconnected?
“Oh, well it says here that you’ve paid with bad checks.”
Uhh..wha? I don’t have any checks, how can I write bad ones?
“On $DATE, a payment was rejected because your bank said no account existed. Then on $DATE another payment was rejected because the check was written on a closed account.”
WTF? I don’t write paper checks. I use BillPay through my credit union, and I’ve got upwards of $400 in the account at all times.
So…yeah. I find out at almost 6:00 PM that, because my credit union had honked up BillPay for my cable provided twice in a row, Time Warner will only accept CASH payments from me–and all the payment stations were closed for the night.
SO I DIDN’T GET TO WATCH THE GAME EXCEPT ON A STREAMED FEED FROM SOME IDIOT THAT KEPT SWITCHING TO THE RANGERS GAME. And I had Chuck Kaiton. So I got to listen to the Hurricanes lose in a shootout.
You’re welcome, Capitals. My bad day is your good day. Now fuck off, and prepare to be April Fooled.
Next game is Friday versus Tampa. And I am going to kill my credit union.
Edit: I’m sorry, did I say Tampa? I meant Atlanta. Time for me to go to bed and put this comedy of errors to rest once and for freaking all.
Let me preface this by saying that I am not a William Faulkner “fan”. I appreciate the body of his work, I admire the beauty of his work and I do like his work. But I don’t geek out over the guy like I geek out over, say, Les Dorscheid’s Battletech and Shadowrun artwork (which is some of the most amazing artwork I have ever seen–it breaks my heart that no Loren Coleman novel ever got a Dorscheid cover, even though my pet project got some).
HOWEVER.
This gem from the Sports Illustrated archives is possibly the best “my first game” story that I have ever read, and it’s something that I plan to show to anyone who ever asks me why I like hockey:
An Innocent At Rinkside – Sports Illustrated, 24 January 1955
Hurricanes take on the Capitals tonight at the RBC. Puck drops at 7:00 PM. Go Canes.
(Man, I wish I could write like that)

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