Priorities

I'm currently on the phone with Erica, Operator WS413 with Visa. Why am I on the phone with Erica? Oohh, cause I lost my Visa check card. I also lost my Capital One Visa, my Macy's card, my health insurance card, my Bank One Visa Check card (that don't matter cause there's only .26 cents on that one), my Circuit City credit card, and my Limited credit card. How did I manage to lose all of these tiny rectangular pieces of plastic with random numbers on them? I left my wallet in a NYC yellow cab. I think Homer Simpson said it best when he said, "DOH!!!"
Considering the fact that my entire life has basically vanished in the back of some nameless, faceless cab, I must say I'm rather calm. Hell, I'm blogging about it, so I must not be too bothered about this current state of affairs. Financially, I'm screwed. I have no cash, and no way to get cash. Not only that but I have no means to use credit either. I'm not really lamenting their loss all that much though. The one thing in my wallet that I am missing most right now is that 3.5" X 1.5" card that has my date of birth prominently displayed right alongside my bright, smiling face. Yes, folks, I am missing my driver's license!! Now why would I be missing my driver's license so much when I don't even have my car around me to drive. Could it be because I have a plane to catch tomorrow and without government issued ID I can't board any flights? Nope, I could really care less about that little detail right now. I'm missing my driver's license so damn much right now because I've got on the cutest dress, with the hottest pair of hooker boots, banging accessories, and a matching clutch. I am all dressed up with somewhere to go, and I'm shit out of luck.
You would think that in light of my current situation my focus would be elsewhere, but alas, it's not. The only reason I'm talking to Erica and not hunting down a spare ID from all of the 5'11, 21+ black females I know is because my friend with the cool Brooklyn apartment won't let me. Friend with the cool Brooklyn apartment, if you're reading this, YOU SUCK!!! I spent 30 bucks on a cab from midtown Manhattan to Flatbush Brooklyn just so I could shower, shit, and shave in enough time to get into the club free 'fo midnight. It's now 37 minutes after the midnight hour and I am sitting here in a state of dejection that not even the 1st runner up to Miss America could understand. I was so ready for tonight damn it!! I had brought all my cute clothes that I never get to wear in West Bumblefuck. I made sure my hair was clean and perfectly fro'd. I bought new jewelry. I shaved my legs. I waxed my armpits. Everything was set. And now, NOTHING. This is like getting amazing head and not having an orgasm. Frustration at its peak.
I don't think I can fully make anyone understand just how badly I needed to go out tonight. It's been roughly 5 weeks since the last time I set foot in a bar/lounge/club type place. And it's been about 12 weeks since I had a kick ass time surrounded by grown folks of the Negro persuasion while listening to misogynistic rap music and drinking a cranberry and sprite as I bent over to the floor and touched my toes. Withdrawal symptons were a bitch and tonight was supposed to be my cure. Now some Eastern European cabbie is cruising around the city with my access to all NYC nightlife. Who the hell cares if Habib finds my wallet and charges $2500 worth of porn to my cards? That is such a little thing in comparison to being forced to stay home on a Saturday night.