Servings DO Go Both Ways

Upon looking at my previous post and the posts of a certain roommate I have rediscovered something:

I get SERVED...LIFE!

I got served Academia: After spending so much time last year writing about the Aztecs and studying so hard for a midterm I receive an 8/15 and a 10/20, DISrespectively. Our comments:

eulrich16: you got served
de la Rosa 39: ....DURSTON!
eulrich16: oof. he really did hate you!
de la Rosa 39: wow, i didn't think he'd really express it!

Durston was this horror of a professor who acted quite phallic to remain PC. Another instance of this was one time during lecture the class was required to ask questions. I sat in the center of the room and raised my hand the whole time. He did not call on me. He even made the effort to look around me to call on other people. At least it is okay because he is no longer teaching?

I got served peers: There's no real single instance about this. It's a daily thing and sadly enough I'm starting to get used to it. I generally go unheard. Most of the servings resemble this model:
me-"So what are you up..." (person turns around and/or walks away) "no? Okay that's fine too."
Emily- "You got SERVED! HAHAHA!!"

*The title said "both ways." I'll get to the other side...soon. Moving on...

I also got served SOUTH AMERICA. Okay it was "only" Brazil but isn't mentioning the whole continent much more effective? Eighty percent of the continent is Brazil anyway. Imagine- a whole country! Serving me! Okay now that my initial venting is out of the way, I'll explain. So after a night of non-serving, ie. a finance final, good dinner, good wine, and good company I thought flying to Brazil would cap off a week of studying and finalizing.

Yeah. When was the last thing I was right about anything? This was too good to be true. I packed light thinking of filling the suitcase via an extreme shopping spree in Sao Paulo, which made my train ride to O'Hare easier. Then I checked in at the ticket counter. Thinking my passport was sufficient I handed it to the agent in full confidence. That confidence was shot down when I heard the words, "You... won't be flying to Brazil today. You don't have a visa." Boy did I look AND feel like an idiot. After my slow brain comprehended those words I turned around and headed back for the trains back to the city. To put this feeling in perspective, it's much worse than the famed walk-of-shame, one of which I would not know- psh. Thinking that everyone around me knew my story I attemped to portray myself as someone who had arrived in Chicago instead of one who has been rejected out of sheer ignorance. To rub NaCl on the wound I received a text message from a friend saying, "Have a great trip!" as I was on my way back to the city. Still I remained optimistic about the situation. I thought if I could switch my flight and apply for an express visa I could still make it to Sao Paulo and stay there a week. Wrong again, as usual. The Brazilian Consulate had impossible, elusive, and minimal hours; the airline office looks like no one had set foot in there for weeks, and both offices were only "open" during the week. Yikes! Instead of spending the weekend on the beaches I spent it with my family, including my dad who forced intoxication on me with wine...as usual. They left two days later which leads to my next server:

MY FAMILY.
After my parents left my mom called me the next day and said, "Do you want to come home for a few days? I forgot to invite you home!" I don't even need to share my feelings or discuss this statement any further. Really- it's humiliating enough to know that my own flesh and blood forgot about their only child.

I know, I promised some serving on the other end. But it's not as lighthearted as the aforementioned. I think I ruined and nearly ended a few lives. Coincidentally this all came to my attention when I was home.

1. Last spring break I bumped into an old friend, Steven*, and we hung out that week a couple of times with our other friend (his best friend,) Devin*. After two times of hanging out Steven thought he had enough game to get frisky with me. In reality he did not so he blamed Devin for being a cockblock. Steven and Devin did not speak for six months because of me. Their friendship got served....ME!

2. Devin's cousin, Guy*, also took a liking to me- who knows why. When Devin broke the news to Guy that I would not consider long-distance relationships with him especially, he did not take it so well. Instead of the usual moving-on thing he got quite drunk one night and tried to, well, you know...end it by laying out on the street downtown. Since this was downtown Seattle* the only thing one will accomplish by laying on the street is an improvement of posture. Ironically it was Steven who dragged Guy off the street and back to his house. Guy got served....me....and almost a pickup! (I wasn't there but the pickup was just an assumption.)

I like to write about things in threes but I really can't think of a third instance in which I served someone. Except for the time I made an ex-novio cry and almost laughing at him in the process. That's another story, one I'd rather not discuss.

In short:

1. I am no Latin-American history connoisseur
2. People should stop thinking they're such !33ts and stop SERVING me! (I actually only wanted to throw that in even if it's not used appropriately. Thanks ROB!!)
   
3. Entering a foreign country CAN require more than a passport
4. Wine can significantly soften the blow of realizing #3 too late
5. Apparently my servings are infrequent and EXTREME

What a Karma Chameleon.





...and a horrible way to end a post that should not even be funny in the first place (not that I am implying that it IS funny.)

*Names have been changed to protect the innocent and emotionally wimpy. Don't worry, the changed names rhyme with their real names so there isn't THAT much protection. Think of it as comparable to bad deodorant or using an umbrella with lots of holes during a severe thunderstorm.