It's cold and wet outside. I'm in the office writing an email about love and aliens and the moods of God. Maybe I'm putting too much thought into to this email. I hear a buzz and a few beeps from the fax line behind me. A fax!
I spin in my chair and pluck the paper, still warm from the magic of the faxing process, out of the tray and read, “Disney World Vacation!” It looks like Walt Disney himself just wrote it with a dripping cartoon paint brush. I read further: Only $99 per person. 1st 50 reservations only! Call now!
Oh man, somewhere tropical sounds great.
Me and Donald duck sipping sodas under palm trees while discussing life as a sailor. Later, I have a wide open grin, my heart tickled by gravity as I plummet 30 stories over a water fall in a hollowed out log. Hurray! I'm buying cotton candy from a man in a hat made of straw wearing a pastel pink shirt and pearl tooth smile. At night, under the stars, Snow White and I dance under the stars on a white sand beach while the dwarfs cook us mushroom burgers on the patio BBQ. A dwarf cousin—Punchy--shows up with tequila, cranberry juice and a blender full of ice. We party all night and I wake up with a splitting headache, not next to Snow White, but Dopey, who after a moment of reflection, recollect that he got all trashed and cornered me, dumping his problems at my feet and then after a guilt trip, convinced me to give him a back rub and then…I shudder.
Oh well, one hour till long weekend. Who needs Disneyland anyhow?
I crumple up the fax and pitch it in the waste basket.
No comments:
Post a Comment