what am i doing for lunch this fine wednesday, this very dead-center of the week, this bottomless valley out of which lies the long climb to the weekend?
grumbling in mouth, mind, and stomach.
i go to the local mctaco king in the box outlet and sit in line for nigh ten minutes before ordering. it is only then that i realize i have no wallet. in this greedy grubby society people rarely do things without thought of reward, and corporations never do; thusly i sputter curses and mumble something under my breath when the nice guy at the window asks me for five stupid bucks. the loose change in the car has all been spent on coffee, and (being picky about financial matters) they don't accept discarded wrappers or bits of gravel as legal tender.
i speed back to work expecting to find the rotten thing lying smugly next to some pens and folders and such—but no. it's clearly not here either.
at this point i realize that one of two things is true:
1. my wallet has sprouted a brain and motor appendages and has hitchhiked to parts unknown, maxing out my credit cards on a joyride of sin and debauchery. i will get help from the police who will try their hardest but tell me in the end to just let him go. i will hire private investigators who will turn up nothing. then, just as i am about to give up hope he will call me three weeks from now, using my own calling card, to tell me he's sorry and wants to come home and will i please come to tijuana and pick him up. i will say 'yes, of course, i'll be there as soon as i can.' i will catch the first flight south and we will have a tearful reunion and in the background someone will be singing a jingle and i will see the camera crew and will go on a rampage when i discover it has all been a visa commercial. i will finally be subdued by airport security and army regulars who will throw us in jail. after nineteen months of torture and near-starvation and sensing my death is near at hand, i will tell them all i know, at which point my government will finally locate me and storms the prison, killing my captors and freeing me. i will be too weak to leave with them, though; i will ask for my wallet and i will die in his arms.
2. i left the thing at home where i removed it from my back pocket because it is uncomfortable to sit on.