UNIVERSAL LOVE - It Sounds Good In Theory - Part II

I had to get away from there. I had to get someplace safe. Perhaps back in the office – perhaps underneath my desk.

I spun around, and began a swift retreat. Due to the ridiculously small size of the lenses on my trendy euro-trash, German industrial rock god sunglasses, they are ironically of almost no use in sunny conditions. In fact, they often make the matter worse. When the angle is just right (as it was just then) the sun gets in behind the lens and reverses the properties of the shades – essentially blinding me.

So, I was walking down the street with the functional equivalent of having my eyes closed. I figured it wasn't a big deal. Pausing for a couple of seconds to take off my sunglasses would mean a couple of extra seconds for The Universe to get me. I reasoned that I'm usually barely paying attention to the world around me at the best of times, and besides I've walked down this street hundreds of times and I know it pretty...

B-WHAM!

When I came to, it became immediately apparent that I had walloped directly into a lamppost in mid-stride. Two pretty young ladies started towards me to see if I was ok, but they were promptly shoved aside by a toothless, dishevelled old guy with an empty shopping cart tied to him via several lengths of stained pantyhose. Whew, I thought bitterly, thank god the insane street guy has saved me from the caring, nurturing torment of the pretty women.

The crazy guy grabbed my shoulder and helped/hauled me to my feet. Apparently, living on the street keeps you pretty strong. He had an interesting scent about him, and a rather daring approach to fashion, but he seemed to be a good guy. Just to ensure that I was ok, he walked the last few blocks to my office with me. That was swell. As we hurried along he impressed upon me the importance of not walking into lampposts. He made a good case. When it came time to part ways, I sincerely thanked him for his help, and silently wished that I had a tin foil hat to give him.

It occurred to me that if I was about to spend some quality time hiding from the predatory intentions of an omnipotent cosmos, I was going to need some food. I decided to get a lovely Sundried Tomato/Almond/Artichoke/Cream cheese bagel from Amero, the Sandwich Guy, who was stationed conveniently next door.

After dutifully enduring an amazingly long line-up of an elite gathering of the most dim-witted people on earth, I got my provisions and walked back into my building, deep in terrified thought. As I rounded the corner to the elevator bank I noticed a set of doors closing. Not wanting to risk another second within the ill-intended grasp of The Universe, I launched myself forward with catlike speed and agility. I thrust my arm through the narrowing gap, intending to set off the sensors and force the doors to open again.

Sensors? Boy, am I a fool. The door continued to close on my arm, which incidentally, was attached to the hand holding my well-earned provisions. The doors closed, I yelped and ripped my arm from its cavernous maw. The Universe may not have gotten its way with me, but it had my bagel.

Clearly, The Screwing was well underway. Suddenly awash in the fear of what may come next, I lost all composure and leapt towards the emergency stairwell. I sprinted up 12 flights of stairs and exploded into my office. The receptionist stared wide-eyed and worriedly as I ran past her. Without stopping to explain, I battled through a hallway full of coworkers, anticipating the sanctuary of my desk.

I dove beneath it and pulled the chair in front of me. I’ve been here for three hours now.

Typing upside down is harder than you think.

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