November 2, 2009
Today, everywhere I went, someone or something blocked my path. No kidding. On my way to work, a car rode down the middle line between two lanes, so I couldn’t get past. Two early morning walkers charged across the street in front of me, and I nearly hit them. Every time I walked down the hall at work, someone walked out of a doorway in front of me. When I got in the elevator, and the doors closed, they quickly reopened again as a woman decided she needed a lift right then and there.
As the day wore on, the obstacles became more extreme. People literally surrounded me on the sidewalk when I tried to get to the gym. They circled clockwise, then counter-clockwise, chanting a strange Latin chant in unison under their breath. Further on, a dog danced in front of me, snarling whenever I tried to dodge past him. The only way I finally made it to the gym was because the dog and an old lady decided to fight over who would be the one to block me from getting in the door.
Back at the office, my coworkers seemed to make a concerted effort to pop up and jump in front of me every time I tried to walk by. Eventually, they took to throwing things in my path; I tripped over a technical manual and fell into a cubicle wall, nearly taking down half a row of cubicles. Even my boss got into the act. When I tried to sneak past his office, he shoulder-checked me into a passing cleaning lady, who then pushed me off into a tangle of furs on a nearby coat rack.
Eventually, I even got in my own way. I tripped over my own feet on my way into the bathroom, knocking down a row of urinating guys who promptly screamed bloody murder. My mirror image in the bathroom mirror reached out as if to give me a shove…and I fell backward into the toilet stall. Voices in my head told me to go one way, then another, then change direction, then switch back and do it again.
All day long, it was one obstacle after another. I was so glad when I got to leave work, I couldn’t wait to get out of there. I just wanted to hole up at home and hide until the obstacles blew over and my path once more was clear. But unfortunately, how was I to know that one more obstacle lay ahead for me? As I drove through the Moxham neighborhood, heading up the hill toward Richland, the street itself buckled and writhed, tossing cobblestones at my windshield. Screaming seagulls swooped down and thrust their jagged beaks through the windows, and huge man-eating lions pounced on the hood of my car. Jets of flame leaped up from the street all around me, shooting searing heat through the car as I raced through them.
By the time I finally made it to my driveway, I was exhausted. I collapsed against the steering wheel, gasping, thanking God for getting me home in one piece. I pried myself up out of the car, then hobbled into the basement…where I immediately tripped over the roller skates my son, Squeak, had left in a pool of motor oil on the floor, then fell against a turkey deep fryer complete with blazing hot bird and oil both. Which explains why now I am sitting here wrapped up in bandages like a mummy, barely able to smoke my meerschaum pipe through the gauze. How I’m going to dance in tomorrow night’s show is beyond me. Fingers crossed! See you soon!
