Ola Tissue Paper

Hmm… I guess everyone must have a day in which just about everything goes wrong. I was hoping that could be after I get property Charlie, but I guess that won’t happen.

First thing’s first: Ola got fired from the bank job this morning. Evidently he’s been late several times and was given too many warnings. After being late this morning, my boss Sandra got the call from her boss and he was let go. The ensuing argument was great and I’m now kicking myself that I didn’t record it. But that was one thing that went wrong. The next is that I’m not sure I’m going to get the car that I want. The car I want is at a dealership that I just realized has the worst reviews ever, Linden Used Autos in Brooklyn. So now I have to redo my search and look for the best dealers and hope they have something I want in the same price range. The problem is that the “best dealers” are usually more expensive. The Africans of property Chi called me yesterday and said the garage door is broken again. I just fixed that shit in February and they broke it again?! And to top it all off, the real estate agent Prius just called me and said the bank that owns the mortgage on property Charlie is still looking for the missing elements of the abstract of title that my lawyer is waiting for. So I may have to wait until the end of next week to close. Ugh!

Let’s take this on step by step-- Ola getting fired. I could give a shit about him… I’m talking about how his firing affects me. It means I have no one to practice my Yoruba with. This means I have no one to cover for me when I’m late. I’m not usually late, of course, but there are times when I don’t get much sleep in between jobs and I may wake up late. We also eat breakfast together and bullshit until 8am when he has to leave. These are the things that make Ola a big part of my morning routine. Now I have to wake up earlier and do all my rituals at an earlier time. I’ll have to create a different person in my mind and pretend to talk to him in Yoruba to continue my language training. And now I’ll have to be just as quiet as I am at my shipping depot job. I mean, who am I supposed to complain about doofy looking white businessmen to—my doofy white co-workers? Ugh. This job just got a lot less fun. On the plus side, Ola was getting too familiar with me and was considering me a friend. With him getting fired, I really have no use for him so I can sever that cord. I've learned the 30 minute workout from him and, now that he doesn't work with me, what purpose can he possibly serve? After all, when one uses a tissue to blow his/her nose, the tissue’s gotta go in the trash. The tissue's use is over. Can't reuse it now, right? With that said…

As for the car, I’ll just have to keep searching for the right dealer and hope to get a good deal. Searching for a car, especially a used one, is extremely annoying and I was seriously hoping that dealer, Linden Used Autos, was going to be the one. Once I saw those reviews, I knew that my search has to continue. The big issue is that I have to go through a dealer because I need to trade in my GMC Jimmy as well. And, in order for me to test out these cars, I have to rely on Nino to test drive it for me. I despise having anyone do anything for me, and it makes me feel like such a bitch. Nino says he doesn’t mind but I don’t care what he thinks. This sucks and now I’m in his debt. Thankfully, I’ve been setting him up on so many dates and getting him so many women through OkCupid that I think the debt’s already paid in full.

As for the Africans, I went to see them this morning while playing hookie. I was in a foul mood so I was kind of instigating, hoping that Omarion would try to start a fight with me. The left side metal string of the garage door coil seems to have snapped. They kept saying “I don’t know what happened” and I told them that it doesn’t matter. I fixed it once, and even tested it after it was fixed. Less than three months later it’s broken, and you think I’m going to fix it again? I told them it was their responsibility because I’ve fixed it already and someone broke it. They can’t blame on anyone else because they occupy the whole building! Surprisingly, Omarion didn’t argue with me and I was really hoping to argue. They asked if the repairs can be taken out of their security deposit. At first I was gonna say no, as security deposits are reserved for when a tenant moves out. But I agreed to it and called the garage people I used last time. Then the Africans started asking about the screen door that they broke and I told them to fix it. Idiots. I’m glad they got to see me in an annoyed mood because I believe they really thought I was going to pay for their mistakes. True idiots.

As far as property Charlie is concerned, there’s really nothing I can do about that. The bank that originally had the mortgage was taken over by a bank, which then got taken over by another bank. So now the new bank has to find the paperwork before we can close. You know, now that I have written this all down, I feel a lot better. I really really love this blog. In fact, the only thing I’m still upset about is the fact that I didn’t record that screaming match between Ola and my boss Sandra. I don’t get to see many firings first hand, and I doubt anyone could match the reaction he had. Simply priceless.

P.S.: About 15 minutes ago, I texted Ola and said “You suck! Next time when you get fired, think of how it can affect me.” He just responded “Fuck you”. I’ll continue sending taunting texts throughout the day until he truly hates me, because I’m not sure if he was joking. Seems cruel, but it's the only way I know to get rid of him. No useless people in my life this year. Tissue in the trash, my dear blog. Tissue in the trash.