We were working down at the Circle K, making slushes when it happened. He burst through the door with masks on three sides of his head. A dragon mask, a sheep mask and an angel mask. He was wearing two coats, so I couldn’t tell which way his arms were going or if they even were arms. Carrying on and banging a tambourine and screaming about getting his “RIGHT HONEST DISCOUNT ON TOWELS AND SEAT COVERS.” Just kept repeating that.

He hadn’t gotten but 14 feet before Sally tripped the silent alarm and I and Robert climbed wholly into the slush chamber on machine two. That’s where the authorities found us, cross-eyed and speaking only in numbers. But the bond we developed that day remains strong. I attribute that to the long hours we spent staring at one another’s tongues.

[The above has been submitted to the Reader’s Digest and I am awaiting response.]

About Chris Weagel

Chris Weagel writes about the intersection of technology and parenting for Wired Magazine. No he doesn’t. He can’t stand that shit.

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