new years eve, 2001
Time: 10:00pm. Location: New Westminister Highway. Vancouver, Canada.
(Cut to Belinda, talking to Ritchie on her cellphone.)
Belinda: “Okay, where the FUCK is this sushi place? We’ve been on this damn highway for 20 minutes, we’re in the middle of nowhere and we still have to buy tickets for the rave later tonight… what? I went too far?! Goddamit, Ritchie! Fine fine, let me make this U-turn in the middle of the road and EEEEEEEEEEE!!!!! … fuck.“
Bel: “Fuck. Uhm, Ritchie, I can’t fucking talk right fucking now. Talk to fucking Ted.”
Ted: “Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.”
Ritchie: “What? What the fuck is going on?”
Ted: “Uhmmm… we’re in a creek.”
Ritchie: “Oh.”
Ernie: “Dave, do NOT move. The last thing we need is for the weight to shift in the car and your car to roll over.”
Dave: “BUT I NEED A CIGARETTE! I NEED A FUCKING CIGARETTE!”
Ernie & Ted & Ank: “FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, DAVE! DON’T MOVE A MUSCLE! DON’T ROLL THE FUCKING CAR INTO THE CREEK! DON’T FUCKING MOVE!”
Belinda: “I’m never going to Canada again. I’m never going to Canada again. Uhm, Ernie, put DOWN that digital camera. NOW. I MEAN it.”[Tow truck guy casually strolls up to Belinda, who is suspended 5 feet in the air]
Truck guy: “Well, hello ma’am. How are you doing tonight?”
Belinda: “(HOW DOES IT LOOK LIKE I’M DOING? I’M IN A FUCKING DITCH! I AM BEYOND SHOCKED RIGHT NOW! MY DAD DOESN’T EVEN KNOW I’M IN FUCKING CANADA AND I’M 8 INCHES FROM A CREEK AND I’M IN A FUCKING DITCH!) Very well sir. Yourself?”
Ank: “She’s taking this remarkably well.”
And that was my New Years Eve! How was yours? (Total eclapsed time from ditch to getting out of the ditch: 30 minutes.)
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