fall of the queen

my reign was brief;
I was a benevolent
ruler. my title was purely
decorative, and my balloon crown
popped halfway through
the second dance routine.

but I didn’t let it bother me –
I had a lovely time,
until my chariot arrived
to convey me home,
and gradually turned back
into a pumpkin drawn
by six white mice.
I was enraged and got
quite upset.

but really it was instant karma
coming back to get me, for
earlier that night I had
watched as two of my friends got
het up over things that
didn’t seem as bad
as they felt them
to be, and I was sad for them
but also I think maybe
secretly superior
in that I wondered why
it had to be like that,
why everyone couldn’t just
chill out and zen
their problems away.

so the Trickster
punished me with a lesson:
two annoying and costly obstacles
in a row, as if perfectly designed
to enrage me and try
to ruin my good mood.
I was challenged
to put my money where my
mouth was.

it took a while
for me to realize
that the only one who could
really ruin my night
was me.

yes, that Uber driver was a douche
who refused to drive me
into Manhattan and then Uber
added injury to insult
by charging me $8 for
going nowhere.

and yes, that green cab driver
was a dick who deliberately
took the longest possible route
that cost me twice what it should
and made me think he was
taking a different, somewhat sane route until
it was too late for me to argue.

but I could
compound the problem
by being pissed off for hours
or I could make up my mind
to get over it.

I’ll call the relevant parties
tomorrow and give them
a piece of my mind,
which will most likely
do nothing. but there’s
nothing to do about it
at 4 am, so I might as well
stop stressing.

I’ll try to
look at it as modern day
noblesse obligé.

Published by

R. Brookes McKenzie

what fresh hell is this

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