This time of year is always tough. Football season is ramping up, the weather has hinted that it might start to cool off a bit here soon, and the kids have gone back to school. Even those of you who are not either a student or a parent have, at the very least, spent a long commute caught in the sloth-like wake of a school bus, wondering why we haven’t developed flying cars be now.
The answer: because your stupid teenagers would drive those flying cars, crashing into each other, killing thousands. Then where would we be?
There’s lots to distract us from our favorite pastime. Heck, I’ve even given up on Fantasy Baseball. My team, the Florida Dumpster Fire, has descended into last place, breaking decades-long records for ineptitude in our keeper league. It’s easy, in seasons like this, where the impossibility of a postseason was a foregone conclusion before the Findlay Market Parade took its first steps on Opening Day. Back then, we thought anything might happen. Now, we know that nothing has and nothing will. How do we keep things relevant?
Read the rest over at Redlegnation
Not Person: I read your latest Elevator Conversations post.
Me: Yeah? Did you like it?
Not Person: No.
Me: Why not?
Not Person: You made it up, didn’t you? You make them all up!
Me: I make some of them up. Most are real. And others are a mix.
Not Person: You shouldn’t do that.
Me: Shouldn’t do what?
Not Person: Make those up.
Me: Why not?
Not Person: It’s like you’re lying!
Me: Lying has intent to deceive. This has intent to entertain.
Not Person: Well, I think you should stop.
Me: Okay, but you’re not gonna like it.
Not Person: …Why?
Me: Because I made YOU up, and…
Not Person: No, wait!
Me: …If I stop…
Not Person: …I take it back!
Me: … you stop.
Not Person: Nooooooooooooo!
Not Person disappears into a puff of existential smoke. Other Person steps into the elevator.
Other Person: Why are you talking to yourself?
Me: You wouldn’t understand. … Can you push floor 3?
Other Person pushes the button and steps to the side.
Other Person: Stupid, drunk, homeless people.
Me: Hey! I’m not homeless.
Other person: You sure smell like it.
The doors close. The elevator goes away.
Two men step into a crowded elevator.
Man #1: You should just give up and get contacts. They really are better than glasses.
Man #2: No way. I’d have to start washing my hands.
Man #1: …You mean more, right? You’d have to wash your hands … more?
Man #2: No.
Everyone in the elevator steps to the side opposite Man #2.