This morning when I got out of bed and went looking for my dog, I became concerned as I remembered hearing reports of a large Angolan Witch spider that had been seen prowling my neighborhood. I was also worried that the business card I had been handed at one of the local filling stations might have been treated with burundanga, causing my normally acute senses to fail me. I might also have been distracted by the scent of egg whites that I had only recently applied to the burns I had received when I took a cell phone call from someone while pumping gas.
The call started politely enough when a young man offered to help me fix my cellular telephone service by simply pressing #90. I thought I recognized the voice, as it turned out to be my late uncle who was calling me from beyond the grave. To soothe my jangled nerves and to continue my search for my missing dog, I walked to the nearest Starbucks, where I was dismayed to see a Marine in full dress uniform turned away at the counter. Deciding to take my business elsewhere, I caught up to the young Marine. We swapped stories, and it turned out that he was looking for his dog, Reggie. He suggested that we stop and grab a bite of "chicken" at KFC, but was far too shaken by the day's events to take that kind of chance.
When I got home, I found my dog, laying on the front porch as she always does. I heaved a great sigh of relief, and went back inside to get ready to go off to work, happy that as bad as my day was, it wasn't as bad as it was for this guy.
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