Oh, man, I love this post...so much goldThere I was, helping an old lady cross the street in the twilight hours of what can only be described as, a mid-Spring's night dream.
41st and Broadway was the setting.
A temperate rain glistened across a road with its better days behind it.
Traffic was light in Everett, but still eerily reminiscent of the days of Couture, when trouble was in the air with peace in the wind's breast; a consortium of a mystery wrapped in an enigma.
"Help!", I heard.
"Help me, by plastic Rite-Aid bag handle has broken and I'm about to lose by apple butter!"
Moments like these don't call for ponderance.
Moments like these don't have one searching their hearts looking for reason.
Moments like these don't wander through the corridors of Highway 99.
No, moments like these are the moments of HEROES, called to action by an innermost duty spanning beyond breadth of human understanding.
"I'll save you!, I yelled.
Quickly, I ran across the street in my brand new XJ900's, imported from Vanuatu, racing like a steed in search of his arrow.
100 feet.
75 feet.
50 feet.
I could smell her 1962 chateaubriand dancing through the air like the wings of a dragonfly.
25 feet...
The bag begins to break...
"NOOOOOOOO!!!!!" I screamed, sliding in under the bag with my right hand, catching the applebutter like Hank Aaron(rip vaccine) sliding into home base.
"SAFE!" said the Rite Aid manager, alongside a host of cheering customers.
"Hip hip-hooray! Hip hip-hooray!", they exclaimed with applause and cheering.
"Don't thank me", I said; "we're all part of the same team."
Then I turned around and tripped on a hooker.
I hope your not really laid up bro