Ah yes… I remember it well…
It was on Mars. I went to Mars to make a Door-Dash delivery. Big mack, Fries and chocolate shake. With extra chocolate. I was happy because it was toward the end of my shift, and it was the closest place to home I had been all day.
I pulled up to what some people would call a house, got out of my vehicle, picked up the bag of delicious, nutritious and practically edible food, and approached the front door, all the while keeping an eye out to make sure that there were no neighborhood dogs about who would try to snag the bag and make off with some stranger’s dinner.
And my tip. (It had already been one of those days – twice occurring previously – and I was, understandably, I think, wary.)
I was within four feet of the doorbell when the door flew open and… there you were… Standing before me with those eyes… and that smile… and a look that said, “It’s about time you showed up! I’m really hungry! And I have lost five pounds since I called in my order!!!”
After a sincere (sort of) apology on my part, I reached out with with my right hand, which was grasping your weight-replacement material, in an effort to assist you in your task of becoming less skinny, when suddenly your dog appeared and…
Within a micro second, your order had been stolen and devoured, leaving you, at least, five pounds lighter. And a lot less friendly than you were when you first opened the door and sneered at me.
I, of course, was quite (and truly) apologetic… Partly because I had failed in my mission to deliver to you your meal(?), but primarily because I was about to forfeit my third tip of the day. (My tri-tip.)
I turned to leave. I got into my vehicle. I started the engine. I put it into “Drive” and was about to take my foot off the break, when, suddenly I heard a knock on the window next to me.
It was you. You were smiling. At me. You were motioning for me to roll down the window. Frankly, I was a bit, and not unpleasantly, surprised at the change in your demeanor, and I, perhaps a bit hesitantly, cautiously even, rolled down my window… I looked into your smiling eyes and said, “Uh…Yes?”
Then the smile left your face and eyes and you replied, “You forgot your bag,” while throwing the scraps of semi-eaten paper onto my chest, from where it slowly made its way down to my lap and onto the floor, all the while leaving a trail of dog saliva, mayonnaise and the occasional chunk of pickle from my left shirt pocket down into my right foot shoe…
At this point, I felt it was safe to leave and return to Earth.
So I did…
Things With Six Strings 