Written by John Safin
As if Mondays weren’t bad enough, lunchtime
is spent with the ‘Want Ads’ from yesterday’s paper. The only two bright
spots: That I got the only picnic table in the shade, and the day at
Hell-job is halfway over. Looking around, it is a nice day – mostly
sunny and comfortable temperature. The flowers seem much more alive in
the sunshine. Even that butterfly perched on the petals of that yellow
flower seems content.
This is a life?! I’m baking in this hot
frickin’ sun. And for what? Just to get a couple shots of nectar from
these stinkin’ flowers. Sheesh! I shoulda stayed in frickin’
California. Plenty of flowers and a lot more variety than what’s here in
Phoenix. Probably wouldn’t be bad if I liked cactus flowers. Gak!
Tastes like the frickin’ bottom of a caterpillar’s feet. Time to get to
the next flower.
Turkey on a hard roll, can of cola and the
paper spread out with a new employer hidden somewhere in the columns of
classified ads. Unfortunately, the first two columns of ads have nothing
to offer. Pen down, a quick few bites of lunch. The sandwich needs a
little more mayo and a touch of mustard, but the soda seems really good
today. Perfectly chilled and very tasty. There goes the butterfly,
flitting towards the next flower. Wonder what it’s like to fly?
Razzle frackin’ frickin’! It’s five body
lengths to the next frackin’ flower. It’s an easy flight. Not even a
flight; it’s a little jump with a bit of wing. At least it’s faster than
crawling around like back in the day. That trip would’ve taken almost an
hour. Ah – the good ol’ days when I could munch on a leaf for days at a
time. Except whenever THEY were around. Look at me! I’m shakin’ again
just thinking about it - those huge wings, all the feathers, the talons
of death… the BEAK! Brrrr. At least that way was just a moment of
terror and it was done. Better than what happened to Francis.
Stop daydreaming! Lunch is less than an
hour with driving to and from the park, and you know how the Pointy
Haired Boss gets if anyone is late. Back to the paper, and nothing in
the first page of want ads. This is depressing. Maybe it’s time to
expand job searching to another city. Hmm- the butterfly seems so calm
and still. Can barely tell it apart from the flowers. Hey! Almost
forgot there’s a bag of chips to go with lunch.
Actually it WAS his fault. We
learned to sniff out the real pesticides and stay away. Francis had to
wander into someone’s private little garden and blam-o; got hit with
saltwater. Those home gardeners show no mercy, and that saltwater is
such a slow painful death. Getting
The Boot
would be better. Ah – this nectar is sweet. Hopefully the last few
flowers are the same way. I gotta watch it, though. Last time I
over-indulged and had the worst sugar hangover.
Should’ve brought another can of soda. This
one is going down too quickly. Too much sugar and calories. Maybe a diet
soda? Yuck! A half regular, half diet soda would be good. Not all the
calories of a regular soda but more than the zero, which should taste
better than plain diet. Stop! Got to stay focused. Another couple bites
of sandwich and back to the paper.
That was the last few sips of nectar. I’m
going to walk across the petal to the next flower. That flying crap
isn’t all we were told it would be. All that bunk about becoming a
‘beautiful butterfly’ didn’t say anything about that frickin’ month
sleeping inside that cocoon. The smell of caterpillar’s feet ain’t
nothing to the last day inside a cocoon. It woulda been nice to know
that bodily functions keep functioning while sleepin’. I was glad to get
airborne to shake off and dry out. Why does this flower smell extra
sweet? Wait…it’s not the flower.
Figures! Not paying attention and there
goes the soda. Fortunately there wasn’t much left in the can, and lunch
was pretty much finished. The paper didn’t catch any of the spill. Still
a couple more pages of ads to read. The one napkin for lunch won’t be
enough to clean up that spill. Just keep the paper out of it and the
spill will dry quickly.
It’s that male human. Must be somewhere
near him. Dogs, cats, squirrels, and all the rest stink ‘cause they’re
furry. Humans smell worse than most furry animals. Someone said it’s
‘cause they use fake flower aromas to mask their natural scent. Frickin’
primates are what they are, but I still smell that sugar. Look how
frickin’ far away it is! Why can’t there be someone for me to ride on?
Like that big animal in Africa. Clyde was tellin’ us about it when he
got back. I think it’s called a rhino. Oh, that aroma! I gotta get
some tail wind to make this easier, and the easiest way to do that is to
get into the air.
Still no luck and only one page to go. Look
at this day. It’s too nice to stay inside an office. And there goes the
butterfly. Such a carefree flight path.
Go straight, go straight, go straight!
Come on and flap, flap, flap. Gimme a frickin’ tail wind not a shiftin’
frackin’ breeze! Razzle frackin’ frickin’! Must be one of those
butterflies in frickin’ Japan starting a hurricane.
All done and nothing. Time to clean up and
get back to Cubicle Hell. Wow. The butterfly made it over here. It’s not
even flinching away from me. Guess it feels safe around humans.
Oh that mid-air dump felt good. Made the
rest of the flight so much easier. Just need to catch my breath and hope
this stinky frickin’ human won’t swat me.
Be calm. Carefully pick up the lunch trash.
Don’t want to scare away the butterfly. It looks so calm. Oh, it’s going
to the spilled soda. Must like the sugar. Its antennas are barely
twitching. Can’t see its eyes. Must be probing the soda.
What the frack you lookin’ at, Primate?!
You didn’t want this nectar so I’m takin’ it. And look at it! Pools and
pools of dark sugar. Just a little taste….OH MY GOD! It’s definitely
lunchtime!!
Bet he’s glad that’s not a diet soda.
Flowers and cola – a butterfly lunch.
Yummy, yummy, yummy. There’s a funky
taste to this but the sugar is good.
This slow walk back to the car is like
walking along death row. A short drive back to the office and the
countdown for five o’clock begins.
Time to stop. Remember: No more sugar
hangovers. Time to find a spot in a tree and take a short nap.
So much for the car not starting as an
excuse to extend lunch a little longer. Time to get back to the grind.
My life just sucks.
Flap, flap, flap. It’s so much nicer
flying on a full stomach. There’s the tree
–
–
Ewww! Something just splattered on the
windshield.
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