Karen5 . . . . . . . . Beeeoootch.

In the mid 80’s I moved from Texas to Virginia so that I would be closer to the law schools I thought I might want to apply to.  It was also close to some of my family. Lucky for me my then partner was supportive of all this since it was just that much further from his own family.  But this is not surprising since this man was purely kind and loving. He was willing to start over in this new place and come along with me on this new path.  Not that I had given him much of a choice. It was typically my way or the highway, with my way usually winning. #winningatallcost

So there we were, in Virginia Beach, Virginia looking for jobs to support us while I studied for the LSAT exam.  The exam that would get me into law school . . . . or not. It took a good year for me to be prepared for this.  Taking the exam meant that I was serious about going back to school. It was a big, and by big I mean expensive, step to take.  But one that I thought was the best next step for me.

Soon after settling into our new apartment, off I went to work in a law firm to get my feet wet.  At night and on the weekends I would study, panicking each time I imagined sitting for the exam.  I was no stranger to panic but little did I know that it would become such a driving force in my life.  One that has helped to shape almost every Karen sitting at the Kitchen Table.  What I mean by that is that there is a little bit of angst and panic in each of us.  Funny how that might actually be what shapes each Karen’s dominant characteristic.  In other words the same basic underlying trait seems to have precipitated a very specific character.  But I digress.  

Back to Karen5. . . .

My parents had come for a visit the same weekend I was to take the LSAT.  This did not make me happy.  I am certain that there were some major eye rolls when I discovered their timing.  I wanted to concentrate on the exam and not worry about how my parents were being entertained.  But nonetheless, arrived they did on the Friday night before the exam. The plan was for them to drop me at the exam, go off to the fair in historic Jamestown, Virginia and then come back to pick me up.  The exam would take about 4 hours. Four hours of torture. Just thinking about it was like anticipating standing before a firing squad. Sounds a little extreme I know but because I was going back to school as an older student, I was feeling the pressure.  After all, if I didn’t do well enough, what was was my back up life plan… I really didn’t have one. Hence, the pressure.

So, the morning of the exam dawned and off we went.  All things considered, I was in a pretty good mood. It was always fun to hang out with my parents even when they showed up and the timing was not great.  Plus I was as ready as I was ever going to be. They dropped me at the front door.  I kissed everyone goodbye and walked into what would become my law school in about a year’s time.  There were about 30 other people there taking the exam. Everyone looked a little bit like a herd of deer in headlights, obviously nervous about the test and, of course, whatever would come after.  

Surprisingly the 4 hours passed pretty quickly.  I was engrossed in the questions and could only think about getting it done in the time we had.  Finally, it was over. Time was up. We were patted on the head and told we could leave. Unlike today’s immediate test response online, we were told that results would come via snail mail in about 4-6 weeks.  I practically tripped my way out of the building, so happy it was over and that the fun part of the day would finally begin. By now it was about noon. I reached the front steps and scanned the parking lot. But the car was nowhere to be seen.  Most people were driving away or climbing into their cars. I waited a few minutes and seeing no sign of the car I moved to the side of the building. There were no cell phones at that time – in the olden days, when everything was in black and white – so I couldn’t call anyone.  Plus it was a fairly nice spring day so I thought I’d just stay outside to wait. So, I sat on the curb. Yes, the curb. I wanted pole position so I could see the car coming and jump right in. I had my tiny purse at my side and my notebook in my arms.

A few minutes turned into about 20 and I was beginning to feel the ire in me rise.  By this time I saw the exam proctors leave. It was Saturday so not many people were around anyway.  Not even students in the library. It started to feel like a ghost town. So, I did what any Karen would do.  Started talking to myself. Inside my head not out loud of course. I’m not that crazy.

Where the Hell are they?  They KNEW that the exam would only be 4 hours.  I specifically told them that the exit time was noon.  How could they not be here? What the Hell were they doing?  I went on like this for several minutes and successfully worked myself into a frenzy.  Now I was pacing the sidewalk – I think fuming would be an appropriate word to insert here.  It was going on half an hour, I was now hungry and thirsty and sufficiently furious.  Naturally, the fury only compounded as time passed.  I knew of course that this was a completely unreasonable response to a simple late pick-up, but I just couldn’t help myself.  The bitch was winning.  #winning

The relief I had felt at having finished the test without vomiting was gone.  Now I was PISSED. I needed to get out of here. I was beginning to feel like a homeless person.  Everyone was gone and I felt awkward. I didn’t belong here. Had no business being here now. I felt like an idiot.  And more than that I felt abandoned. I had nowhere to go and no way to get there if I did. Although you might think that I would feel frightened or sad about being left there alone.  I did not. I felt immeasurable anger.

It never occurred to me that they might have had a great excuse.  Car trouble, traffic, maybe got lost. Nope, none of those thoughts even entered my head.  The only thought was “God dammit. Those assholes. They know that I don’t like to wait around.  They know I am tired. They are doing this on purpose.”

About 10 minutes later, they pulled up.  I just stood there watching the car. Arms folded across my chest, face burning, body sweaty and shaking from anger.  I glared at each of them one by one. My sweet stepfather who wouldn’t hurt a fly and who would go out of his way to do anything for any of us.  My mother who really came this weekend because she knew I’d be nervous and she just wanted to be there to support me. She knew immediately that I was mad. Then there was my boyfriend of 3 years.  He was sweet and kind and would also do anything for me – within reason – he wasn’t a doormat.  Nonetheless, I stared each of them down so they would know how disappointed I was in them. 

Finally I approached the car.  They each got out with big smiles on their faces congratulating me on finishing step one of my path to law school.  I pushed them out of the way and got in the car. I’m pretty sure steam was coming off of the top of my head. I refused to look at any of them or speak to them.  They had brought me a bottle of water because it was so hot. My boyfriend pulled out a small box and said he thought of me when he saw this and wanted to commemorate the day.  It was an etched brass bracelet. They kept on talking and talking, telling me about their morning at Jamestown fair. They started asking me questions about the exam. I said nothing.  Just sat with arms folded staring out the window.

Finally, I said that we would not be going anywhere else.  I wanted to go home. No lunch or dinner or revisiting Jamestown.  Just take me home you assholes. So that is, of course, what they did.

Later after I calmed down and we talked about the day, I never once said I was sorry for my childish selfish behavior.  I never once thanked them for dropping me off and picking me up. Bringing me water or a present. I just acted like the bitchy asshole that I was.  And that, Captain Reader, is Karen5.