Monday, April 16, 2012

Off Track Vetting


"Yes I'm coming! As soon as I find my keys!"

I wonder where they might have gone. I was sure they were right here on my desk. It's so frustrating. I have to believe people move things on me just to test me or something. Oh I don't know, maybe I'm just being forgetful. I suppose I should sit a moment and think about it, I'm sure it'll come to me. They could still be in my other pants pockets I guess; maybe the jeans with the rip in the right knee, or is it the left. No wait, I think I was wearing shorts earlier, or was I. Hmmm. Maybe in my coat pocket. Sure that's it, the coat.


There she is yelling to me again. I wish I knew who this woman was, she tramps around my house like she owns it, always asking me questions. "What do you want for breakfast" she asks, like I can't fix my own. "Put some socks on", "did you brush your teeth?" "Stay close" she says, as if I'd wander off, as if I'm a child. Hurry this and hurry that. I wonder what's her hurry, there's plenty of time in a day.


Wait a second, I remember now. She was yelling at me earlier, in the back yard, scooting me off the lawn like I was some goose pooping in her grass, whispering at me to put some clothes on if I wanted to be outside. No one could see me for God's sake, there are shrubs for that around the patio and the people in the house behind us weren't home, or at least weren't peering out their windows while I was peering toward them. So what does it matter what I wear, as if I can't be casual on my own property.


Well that cracks it. If I was outside and undressed, it must have been warm since I'm no fool after all, so obviously the keys aren't in my coat. It's summer silly. Maybe the shorts. I wonder where they are. I suppose they're upstairs in the dirty clothes hamper where they always are, where I always find them even though I've told my wife I need them so please wash them once in a while so I have them handy when I need to go out and enjoy the sunshine.


"Yes dear, I'm coming! Really! I just have to find my keys!"


I called her dear. There must be a reason; I'm not one to call strangers dear after all. Oh, oh, OH! Linda! My wife! That's who's been yelling at me to hurry up! Of course you moron! Who else would it be! Yes, Linda. She must want to go somewhere and needs me to drive her. If only I could find my damned keys. They must be around here somewhere. I wonder if they're in my coat pocket. Wait; wasn't that...


I wonder if I should just tell her I can't find my keys. I don't really want to disappoint her again. I'm such a disappointment lately. I should tell her I suppose, so she can make other plans or find her own ride to wherever she's going. Where's she going I wonder. Maybe she told me already. I could ask, but she might worry that I didn't know; she seems to worry a lot lately ...

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