The Last Straw.

I just walked home. At 1:30 in the morning. Because I was on call and had to come in today to close.

But towards the shift it started to rain. And after a horrible time making a messy store look not so messy, I called a cab ARROW CABS, to be precise, to pick me up. After waiting 20 minutes for the cab to come, some guy from out of no where gets in.

So I, tired-dejected-rejected...go up to the car before they can leave together and voice my concern. That I was the one standing out here for a long time, I was the one who called twice to ask where the hell my cab was, and that this asshole address is not the one she was sent to pick up.

She knows this. Because after I tell her where I am going she turns to him and goes "did you call cab". He lies and says he did. That he called this specific cab. She says "oh" and then looks as if she doesn't know what to do. Even though I am her FARE. I am the one who she is suppose to be picked up. So you know what she does. She asks me to wait for the next one. As if that will make it any better.

I slam the door, mouthing an "Ok douches" and start walking in the rain. They get stuck at a light, and just as I pass she realizes how fucked up this is. That some straight out of the oven, minty fresh, douche bag is not her fare and that me, worn out-dejected-rejected-crooked edges is her damn Fare.

"oh miss" she yells from across the street"come in. come in the cab". But I can't because there are tears forming and I am too mad and proud to get in. So I tell her I will walk. All the way up the hill, past the cemetery and the law school to my 'house'. I think I tell her this. I wish I told her this. When the light turns green they turn the corner briskly and out of sight and then I cry the whole way home because even though I am dealing with this graduate school thing well....for some reason it mattered today.

For some reason all of the bad from this past year, mattered. It mattered that my nephew I never got to know and love died. That my mom and brother are dealing with their grief separately with food or alcohol. That Marie is so miserable in small town USA I worry for her. That my dad needs me to be the daughter I don't know how to be. That my aunt is an idiot who has raised and is raising selfish children. That I was rejected from grad school, from my own Alma mater which makes me feel like god hates me. Because the shit never stops. There is never a moment where it gets an easier. Never a pause button so I can take a snack break and come back to all the action. It just unfolds rapidly and without care.

So it mattered tonight that ARROW CABS left me at my job to walk home so some guy who never has anything bad happen to him could get home to his nice life where babies don't die suddenly for no reason, where someone stops being an aunt and a father and a grandma all in one day. Where schools accept bright girls for their MFA programs and where there are enough pause buttons for him to evaluate or not evaluate taking a cab away from a girl and where hs cabbie foes not have to evaluate breaking a cabbie rule: take the fare you are given.

So it mattered to night with each painful step home. It fucking mattered. And it was easy for all of it to matter because in the rain who can really decipher tears from drops that fall from the sky.