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Mexican Night |
| Written by Joshua Patat | |
| Friday, 18 January 2008 | |
Bob spends most of his days alone, in a room full of people. You see, Bob is the kind of guy that for the most part folks flat out ignore, or simply do not notice; which is really quite amazing considering his enormous stature. Those who do happen to notice Bob, would be obliged to feel somewhat sorry for his obscurity, but do not be so quick to pity poor Bob, for he is about to embark on quite the adventure. Childhood was rather dull and unremarkable for young Robert Lacklin. He was a dull and unremarkable boy with a dull and unremarkable family who did dull and unremarkable things. Young Robert was very content with this position because sometimes the mundane can be much like a toddler's quilt; warm, safe, and comfortable. For this reason, Robert worked very hard at being invisible. Robert's youth passed by with an astonishing quickness and before he could even consider how tedious it had, in fact been; he had completed college and landed a perfectly boring job, which brings us to the present day. Bob walked home from work today, much like he did every other day since being hired as a "grammar clerk" for a large and immensely popular gossip magazine. It was approximately four miles from Bob's apartment to the lobby of his employer, "Oh My Weekly!" Some days Bob fantasized about owning a small hybrid or possibly a moped with which to commute to and from work, but as quickly as the notion stirred within his ordinary head, it would pass. Bob had two friends, Jerry his neighbor and Rupert his cat. Tonight he had plans to have dinner with them both. As Bob trudged up the stairwell of his decrepit apartment complex, stepping over refuse left behind undoubtedly from a neighborhood vagabond, he had an odd sensation that something exciting was going to happen. Maybe Jerry was going to surprise him with Chinese takeout; after all, tonight was supposed to be "Mexican night" and Jerry was known to be spontaneous. Bob was giddy with anticipation as he reached his apartment door and shifted through his pocket to locate the key. Suddenly, an explosion rocked the building. Rubbing his eyes and propping himself up on his side, Bob understood what, moments earlier, had caused him to experience that unusual feeling of excited anticipation (which, it turns out, he had confused with impending doom.) Bob had left his gas oven open that morning while attempting to asphyxiate himself and had been interrupted by the realization that he had forgotten to turn in an important revision to his editor. In a pure sense of panic, he had rushed to the office, meaning to carry on his suicide attempt upon returning home from work. Unbeknownst to Bob, gas had been pouring out of his oven and accumulating in his tiny apartment throughout the course of the day. Somehow, and it doesn't really matter how (does it?), the gas had ignited at the exact moment that Bob was fishing in his pocket to retrieve his apartment key, resulting in the aforementioned explosion. As Bob began to run this scenario though his mind, he lost consciousness and died a rather unique and remarkable death. Bob's cat Rupert walked past his dead body in the hallway and didn't even notice that it was there. Copyright 2008 Joshua Patat |
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| Last Updated ( Saturday, 19 January 2008 ) |
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