De-evolution of compsure

Tonight I picked up Fiance from her job and we headed up 169 to Anoka for her second dress fitting. Less than a month to go to the wedding. She was unusually fidgety during the drive. We had to stop for traffic a few times, but got there in 40 minutes. As we got closer, I knew that the car would need gas before we took off for home. 

“Should we fill up now since we’re early, or should I go while you are being fitted?”

“Let’s just get there and fill up after.”

“Sure.”

So I sit and read in the small shop while fiance puts on the dress behind a fancy pants curtain. The owner’s small dog plays with me and sits in my lap, batting at my hand every time I try to stop petting her. I am content. A bit sleepy.

Fiance comes out (no breach in protocol here, we picked out the dress together). She looks beautiful. Breathtaking. She’s wearing an amber necklace we bought two months ago. It’s our “old” item, millions of years old.

The dress is wonderful, although some adjustments to the boob area will be made to keep it from looking bunchy. The seamstress says she can take out one of the rib things in the bust area to take care of it. She will do it and come back.

“Why don’t you go fill the car,” fiance says.

It’s 5:30 at this point.

“Sure” I say.

I jump in the car and get to the end of the parking lot that’s near a 4-way stop. Can’t see any gas stations, but there’s some sort of light off to the left that might be a gas station. If only I could turn left. Lots of cars, and it’s getting dark. Good lord will I ever get out of this parking lot? Screw it, here we go.

OK, driving. Driving. Not even sure what that light was I saw before. But I’m back at a main road waiting for the light to change. Dear jesus how long will this light take?

Turning. OK, this is recognizable. There’s the Walgreens we turned near on the way here. Main street. That should be promising. Might as well turn left.

OK, this red light thing is getting annoying.

What is this, like five minutes now sitting here?

Shit.

All right, now I’m on main street in Anoka. Pretty much just drove in a big circle, but now we'll just go straight. There’s got to be a gas station along here somewhere. Perhaps beyond these four red lights in a fucking row.

There’s a Hardee’s. Still no gas station. Will I find one soon? Gas is getting near the red lines of death, but I haven’t heard the beep yet, so that’s good. Wish it wasn’t so dark out. God dammit, still no gas station. Seriously, another light? What the hell is this shit?

How the fuck did I get to fucking Coon Rapids?! Seriously this is all sorts of fucked up. I’m definitely on some kind of main road, since there’s all sorts of places to shop here, Home Depot, fucking Target and shit. Holy motherfucking shitball sandwich There’s a gas station on the wrong damn side of the fucking road, I can’t switch lanes with this stupid dick truck riding right next to me. Holy christ on the cross with a stick up his ass twisted intestines this is so ridiculous. I just want some fucking gas. Is this some sort of gas desert? Do the people of Coon Rapids and Anoka just install fucking pumps in their driveways since there is no son of a bitch gas station shit balls. 

Awesome, more red lights.

This is where dead babies go. This is where dead babies go.

Let’s just turn around. Abort mission. Abort fucking mission.

This Costco parkinglot fucking sucks balls. I want to have costco’s children just so I can beat them.

So Costco has a gas station, but I’m not a member. Can I just drive into these people and siphon their fucking gas? Where the hell is the road back to the street to get back to Anoka. I want to die. Why are you so horrible Coon Rapids?

More red lights. I get back to fiance, who is standing outside the shop since they closed I took so fucking long. It's 5:55. I've been driving for 25 minutes (half of which were at red lights) without getting to a gas station.

“Where were you?”

“ShitballssonofabitchfuckingmotherfuckingroadsredlightsARGHIhatethistownandwanttoblowupagasstationbuttherearenonetobefound.”

“You didn’t even fill up?”

*stare of death*

“Well, let’s just start going home.”

1 mile later, we see a Sinclair station, which when we pull in is not really a gas station but a decoy where cars go to die. Across the highway is a real gas station, which takes about 5 minutes to get to through red lights. I fill up, pee, and we get back to the light to get back onto 169 just as it turns red.

Fucking shit stick slap a bitch this sucks I hate life everyone sucks and there goes the brain aneurism I’ve been waiting for for sweet sweet release from this fucking mortal coil so long fuckers I’ll see you in hell, no? not an aneurism? I have to keep doing this bullshit? Fucking fuck fuck.

Shit.