Black Coffee And "Dirty Assfuckers" Creme Donuts

There's some foul logic about bad nights that dictates they can only get worse, never better.

I was pissed off already, the Yanks were trailing 2-0 and the bases were loaded. My two-way starts to go off, so I mute the TV to answer it. It's one of my managers.

I ask what's wrong, and as they reply Javier Vasquez throws his first pitch. Let me break this down for you.

Manager: Bus number seventeen (Johnny Damon swings the bat) is on fire (Damon connects the ball flying hard off his bat) on the parkway (the ball is high, it's deep...) with kids still on it. (and fucking gone.)

So I'm out the door before my manager's done talking and before Damon can do his victory dance around the bases.

Long story short...

Thank God (and this is the only silver lining on this horrendous night) the bus wasn't on fire. A defective heater coil was giving off smoke and causing something to overheat causing the condensation from several damp days to turn into steam.

Where there's smoke, there isn't always a fire. But that didn't stop me from having to spend nearly two hours making phonecalls and double checking that the rest of my buses weren't having problems.

So I head home, but I'm kind of hungry and a little pissed I couldn't go out, so I stop at Dunkin' Donuts to get a Coolata and a donut.

I order my coolata but instead get a black coffee (par for the course at this D&D). I wanted a Boston Creme donut. But the way this night is going I just couldn't bring myself to say the word Boston.

Me: Yeah can I get one of those. (Pointing at the boston creme's).
Retardo Counter Guy: These? (pointing at glazed).
Me: No one of those, the ones with the creme.
Retardo Counter Guy: These? (Pointing at the absolutely cremeless sprinkled donuts)
Me: No, no. One of the B-*coughing*-on Creme donuts.
Retardo Counter Guy: These? (Pointing at a fucking bran muffin)
Me: Fuck it I'll take a kruller.

So I left with my Black Coffee and slightly stale Kruller, knowing that I wouldn't get a parking spot again when I got home and would therefore have a parking ticket in the morning, knowing that I would spend most of tomorrow placating angry parents whose kids were on a bus full of steam tonight, knowing that the Yanks season was just about over and I hadn't even gotten to see the game...but also knowing that all things considered tonight could have been much, much worse.

And in a lot of ways I'm sort of lucky.

Ain't that some shit?