If it breaks...

It seemed like all was going well for a few more hours, until Nadia voiced that she had to go to the store on the grounds that it was an Emergency. Unfortunately the only mode of free transportation, besides our legs and heartbeats, was my old VW a.k.a the Crap-mobile. As soon as we got to the driveway, Murphy reared his fugly head again.

Murphy's Law #8
If it jams - force it. If it breaks, it needed replacing anyway.

"Unlock your door"

"It is"

"Then why can't I open it genius?"

"Because you don't work out enough weakling"

I walked around the car to the passengers side and tugged on the handle. Nadia wasn't joking when she said she couldn't open it because it wouldn't budge, I even resorted to placing one foot on the side of my car as an anchor. Nadia was giggling at my attempts, mind you if positions were reversed I probably would be laughing too.
Worry not though, things get a little more ridiculous.
As I continued to pull on the door handle, there was a resounding snap, slack was granted and the next thing I knew, I tumbled ass over tea kettle with the door handle firmly in my grasp.

"Valient effort lady"

I regained my composure and placed the handle on the roof of the car as I glared at Nadia. I walked to the drivers side door determined to get INTO my car. As crappy as it was, I was not walking on the grounds that I'm a lazy sod. Taking a deep breath, I grabbed the handle and just held it for a minute. I yanked once more but to no avail; why the doors weren't opening was beyond me, but what I did know was that my patience was beginning to wear thin.

Murphy's Law # 30
Where patience fails, force prevails.

I must have looked like a psycho, yanking repetitively on my car door handle and yelling obscenities at the inanimate object. With one final attempt I pulled and was awarded with another loud snap, which got received by a nice loud and colourful word.
Oh like you haven't cussed at something that couldn't hear you.

This was just...unreal, and my day was beginning to resemble something you'd see in a movie.

"Soooo, how do we get into your car?"

"How imperative is going to the store?"

"I need more eyeliner"

If there was ever a time where I wanted to punch my best friend in the boob for being stupid, it would be right now. Either that or I would settle for a good face palm at the moment. If you're wondering what brought on the sudden urge for violence, it's because Nadia is the prime example of beauty only being skin deep with fashion being even shallower, meaning that she was the model type of girl with the name brand everything. I hated that.
Which sometimes pondered the question as to why she was my best friend.
Though it's probably because she knows how awesome I am and has nothing to do with that time I saved her from eating a mouthful of sand when we were five.

"I know! You need to relax...Let's have a girls night, maybe your luck will change after a few fruity drinks"

I raised a skeptical eyebrow at Nadia's goofy suggestion. I was never one for clubs or fruity drinks, but I knew that it was Nadia's cup of tea and it was only fair to give in. After all, how many times had I made her sit through hours of Star Wars and Halo when I knew she wasn't a fan of either.


A creepy, overly girlish grin was threatening to break Nadia's face when she heard my answer. Uh oh, she was going to do it. She was going to squee and it looked like she was thinking of a master plan that had to do with me.

"You have to let me do your hair and make up"

And there it was. I had no choice now, though I guess it was a small price to pay. So I finally surrended my face and hair to Nadia and she dragged me into the house babbling on about shadows and straighteners. I sat patiently on the bathroom counter as she attacked my face with her arsenal of beauty products she never left home without.

"There, you're finally done"

"Took you long enough, you tool"

"Shut up, you look fierce"

The End

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