Acting extra special extra extra American-like. I'm an impatient American most days but today, well, I reminded myself of Sam McPheeters in that one column he wrote for Punk Planet several years back. Working at home in an apartment that is cookie cutter claustrophobic is grueling most days. But working at home in an apartment that is cookie cutter claustrophobic on a day when it's over 90 degrees outside and your air conditioner is failing you is especially irritating. Sitting still and sweating inside with air conditioning running. Watching a soap opera while working. Leaving on Dr. Phil just to hear other peoples' voices (today a young woman confronted her mother on her crack use) and actually being enticed by Oprah's show about dressing to accentuate your body, with a particular focus on the right fitting bra. One lady was a 34A and had been wearing a 36D or something. I don't understand. But I'm in here in and it's sweltering and I am just determined to buy a new air conditioner AS SOON AS I GET DONE WORKING BECAUSE I NEED IT RIGHT NOW. I CAN NOT TOLERATE THIS HEAT ANYMORE. I AM JUST TOO SWEATY. THE FUCKING LAP TOP IS MAKING ME SWEAT MORE. MY DESKTOP IS FUCKED. I NEED A NEW A/C THIS FUCKING IMMEDIATE INSTANT. I am an AMERICAN! So first I head to the gross place because it's the closest, then I desperately try two other chain stores nearby even though I''m pretty convinced its a lost cause. I call my mom and ask her to call Target on Chase. They're out. I'm peevish. Very, very peevish. Why don't these stores have enough air conditioners for everyone!? They should.*I* need a fucking new air-conditioner. My last stop would be Sears, I promised myself, because I could not allow myself to completely succumb to impatience. They had a few left there but only 5300 BTUS and my step dad had just called from the Oak Creek Colders, where he could get one at 10000 BTUS for only about $40 more than the model at Sears. They had three total a/cs left there. I didnt bother with the mom and pop Ace I like to purchase things from. I called my step dad back and gave him the go, and turned around to hop on the freeway to drive down to pick it up. I just wanted to get it over with so my apartment that soaks in the sun so so much could perhaps cool down. And I want a house. My own house. A new house. Or a newer condo that's not a piece of shit. With some central air in it. I am 32 and days pass me by I feel nothing accomplishing nothing applying for jobs a lot lately but still there's no guarantees I just want to make like $30-40K per year. God that's so little and it still just eludes me. Tired of making do tired of relying on my parents tired of just about everything. Floating around in this unproductive abyss headaches all the time cant read cant write no insurance. WHINY FUCKING MESS! But if I can just get that a/c it willll alllll beee bbbetter. Yeah...
The box is bigger than I can handle but I insist on taking it to my apartment alone. I somehow manage to manuever it out of my car and into the back doorway of my building, and then I proceed to slide it around the corners until I am in front of the elevator. But then this stupid bitch walks in through the front door and beats me to elevator. We can't both fit in there with my huge box and so I sit and glower at her even though I can't see her because of the way she is standing. I don't have 3 minutes to wait because I AM SWEATY and I AM AN AMERICAN! The stupid bitch then peeks her head around and asks if I need help. A real bitch, huh?!? She's acting less like an American than me, but I tell her no. I am always determined to finish such arduous tasks alone. I'm single. I always do this shit. I ride my bike home with groceries in the basket and hanging from each one of my bikes handles. I've fucking carried a heavy desk home from the Office Max in Soho to my Brooklyn apartment. I have border line carpel tunnel but I will lift some shit when I need to.

I tear that box open and wrestle with the unit. It's way too large and heavy for me to lift. But I do. My back still aches. I have cut knuckles and a scratched up inner arm. I fuck around with the instructions for awhile, which just holds me back from completing my task. I finally heave the thing up in the space where the inefficient a/c used to rest, the one that leaked water over the place after I took it down. I excitedly plug in the a/c. I hear this loud sound, sort of like bbreakkka breakkc uuurhghghg breakka urugh. No a/c should sound like that. I turn it on and back off. My fan stops. The bathroom lights gone out. I've blown a fuse.

And I deserve to have to sit around in my underwear all night. I deserve the discomfort because I'm a FUCKING American. I call my step dad to tell him the thing doesn't work and he is up here in a half hour with a new one. It's on right now and its a little cooler, but not as cool as I would like it.

In Sam McPheeters' column, he'd recalled how after learning the Taco Bell item that he had ordered vegetarian had meat in it--he'd learned this by biting into the item--he drove back to the drive-through and screamed his head off at the Taco Bell employee. I think he also recalled snapping hard on a utilities representative on the phone. After describing these instances, he amusingly berated himself for flipping out over such trivial inconveniences. He berated himself for his Americanness. It was truly a great column, one of the only things I enjoyed in Punk Planet for months. I wish I had a copy of it now. I was so pushy at Sears. There was a crowd of people milling around the a/cs and I just pushed through them all and interupted people. Annoyed the sales clerks. But I had no time to be waiting while they helped other customers.

I truly disgust me. Oh well, though, at least I managed not to yell at any strangers.