Friday, January 27, 2006

Don't let this happen

The other day as I was leaving work I saw a little cow in the parking lot. I immediately thought to myself, "What the heck is a cow doing in the parking lot?" I didn't spend too much time on this obviously trivial matter however as there was a far more pressing situation to be attended to.

How was I going to get home?

Obviously I couldn't take my car because of the well known fact that I had been kidnapped by thirteen Scottish ping-pongers wearing hockey masks driving a Wesfalia that morning and my car was still at home. Nice guys. Fed me tea and crumpets with honey and the blindfold wasn't very tight, but I digress.

I considered walking, but the last time I did that, I was distracted by the sheer complexity of our urban landscape and missed the turn on to my street, resulting in my walking eighty-seven and a half kilometers out of my way, and finally realizing that I was no longer in what would traditionally be called a city, nor was I walking on what would traditionally be called a road, I hitched a ride with a family of reindeer farmers from Tomogamy, during which time I learned a great deal about how to survive in the foothills of Wales with nothing but a sharp stick and the boots on my feet, so walking was out of the question.

I contemplated taking a taxi cab, but then I found myself engaged in a debate with myself about the cost of a taxi cab ride and the fact that I had no money on me which would mean I would have to get the taxi cab driver to take me home to get my wallet, then out to a bank to get money to pay him, then back home, and I wondered whether it would be prudent to set up a cost benefit analysis of the scenario, but that proved difficult as the only basis that I had for the value of a ride home was the actual cost of a taxi cab ride home including the detours which led me to the conclusion that I should be indifferent about taking the taxi cab.

By this point the cow had come closer and I really didn't want to trouble myself with the cow so I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small package of jellybeans which I subsequently convinced the driver of a bus to take in place of the usual cash fare.

Stepping off the bus at a gas station I encountered a man that used to sell old shoelaces on the corner in the neighbourhood where I grew up. He offered me a ride in his Bentley stating that business had been good for the last few months. I conveyed to him that it would not be necessary as I was only steps away now from the late nineteenth century farm house in which I have a basement apartment.

Finally arriving home, I pick up the newspaper to see a headline of, "Mad cow mauls twenty-two year old dental hygenist in parking lot of local strip mall." I turn on the TV to the sports channel which was broadcasting highlights of the Scottish national table tennis team taking the World Cup when it is interrupted by a special report of a violent rally at city hall protesting the outlaw of reindeer farming in Northern Ontario.

The phone rings, "Hello? How are ya? What'd I do today? Not much. You?"

All for now,


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