A while back, I told you about the bag of poo someone left in front of my house. Based on the timing, I suspected it had something to do with my Tales From a Roundabout stories, which poke fun at my hometown.
My theory was that I had offended someone. My wife’s theory was that somebody forgot to clean up after their dog. She tends to believe the best in people. I tend to believe the most outrageous story I can fabricate about people. Polar opposites, but we make it work.
Well, last week, the city upped the ante. On Thursday, they dispatched an operative (disguised as a school bus driver) to get their point across. On Thursday, she hit our mailbox. On Friday, she completely destroyed the mailbox. On Friday afternoon, she hit the street sign across the street (a punctuation mark in my mind).
My wife disagrees that this driver is actually a messenger of doom. She believes she’s an untrained, last-minute addition to the bus driver corps. It’s this type of naivety that allowed our country to be overrun by extended warranty telemarketers.
Again, the timing is (in my paranoid mind) is too much of a coincidence. The Tales From a Roundabout Volume 2 manuscript is almost done and the cover for the first TAFR novel was just finished. I think the city is trying to silence me. I think they don’t want you to read about the hilarious exploits of this town because they might be a little too close to reality.
Or, I could be a nut. It could go either way.
Carry on, Citizens!