Photo: broma, Flickr Creative CommonsSo there I was, racing through the crooked residential streets in one of the grittier parts of town, heedless of the preschool-aged children and the elderly pedestrians in my way. You know the kind of place. It's one of those neighborhoods where living in a shotgun shack means you've made it in the world. I'm headed for a gas station to see a guy about some pastries, and I've already had a bad day. I'm not going to let a little vehicular homicide stand in my way.
I should probably take a step back here and start from the beginning. My morning began early today. I jolted awake around three terrified that I'd slept through the phone call from the delivery guy for a large doughnut chain (we'll call them Crunchy Milk to protect the innocent). I'm the point man for a fundraiser for my tennis team, see, and I was expecting a call from the guy to let me know when to show up and make the exchange. His cargo for my check. I'd been told by some of the others who've done this before that the guy works early. Expect to be out there in the Wal-Mart parking lot at 5:30 a.m., they said. I suck at waking up in the morning so even though I had my cell by my bed and my home phone next to my ear, ringer turned up to 11, I was worried I wouldn't wake up and there'd be a dozen disappointed benefactors clamoring for my head so they could render my fat to fry their own doughy delicacies.
I woke up every hour or so after three to check the clock, but I didn't start worrying until my alarm, set for 6 a.m., went off without a call. Shoot, I thought. The guy's flaked on me. I've heard about that happening before. I called my contact at the Wal-Mart and she says he's not arrived yet. I don't know if I can trust her, but I go about my morning business to get to school on time. I picked up my bag with my change of clothes for today's after-school run and head out the door, locking it behind me. I realized after a few steps that I've forgotten my school bag inside. No matter, I've got my keys.
Only, I don't have the one key I need. I loaned it to my wife yesterday when she forgot hers. She needed it to get home while I was off doing my tennis thing somewhere else. I start to just say fuck it until I realize that the check I need for the goods is in that bag. If my contact was telling the truth, I may still need it today. Time for a little breaking and entering. After casing the joint, my own joint, I found a window I'd left unlocked and pried the window screen loose. This isn't easy as the screens weren't intended to be pried loose from the outside. I may not be able to get this one back in when I'm done. I managed to squeeze through the window, which was a little smaller than expected. I went through head first and saw myself falling through onto my head, but I managed to squeeze in and get down without injury. I grabbed the bag and the key, which I've noticed my wife left on the counter. I don't remember her telling me about that, but I
could be wrong. Again, I'm out the door and on my way.
I finally make it to work and I place a call with the Crunchy Milk people. Turns out that the guy is just running a little behind today and they tell me where I can find him. This gets me back to where I started. There's not much story left after that. I make the exchange and distribute the goods. Sometimes reality doesn't make up good endings. Deal with it.
And those teachers who said that dude comes before the sun? Let's just say some bitches gone get mercked.