This weekend saw temperatures near seventy. The first hint of spring brought out all the animals. To Keith’s and my surprise, the frogs, snakes, and turtles emerged from their winter hiding. We thought for sure spring would have to settle in for a couple of weeks before these cold-blooded creatures would make their appearance.
The warmest place to be for them is on the road. The heated blacktop must feel as cozy as an electric blanket to them. Unfortunately, the warmest place to be is also the most dangerous. The carnage littering the road attested to that fact. On out trip to Cambridge, we must’ve seen a couple of dozen dead snakes and turtles, splattered by drivers who mustn’t pay much attention to what is in the road and most likely driving way too fast to avoid the animals even if they did see them. The snakes, we’re sure, were purposely targeted for slaughter.
Two times of the year are particularly depressing in Toddville: spring and fall. It’s heartbreaking enough throughout the year seeing an occasional warm-blooded animal killed by a car – a deer one day, a fox another, and a rabbit later. But every spring and fall when the nights get cold, the reptiles and amphibians seek out the road for warmth and the number of road kill grows logarithmically.
This weekend three turtles were given a second chance. On our road, we rescued two spotted turtles trying to get across. Our road isn’t a high-traffic road and they probably would’ve made it across safely on their own, but we guaranteed their safety. We released them in our newly made pond where they should be safe until they venture out again. Turtles, for some reason, aren’t happy where they are. They constantly are on the move looking for greener pastures, or, in a turtle’s world, a bigger pond or prime nesting area.
The third turtle we rescued genuinely received a second lease on life. The small turtle must’ve been crossing the road when a vehicle passed. Judging by the nick on the edge of its shell, we figured the vehicle straddled the turtle to avoid hitting it, but the wind rolled it over on its back. We found it in the middle of the road, helpless with the sun beating down on it.
As we drove it to a more secure place in the marsh, it came out of its shell, swimming in the air as if it thought it could really get out of Keith’s hand. By its feistiness, we knew it would be fine. As soon as we put it on the mud, it quickly scuttled into a shallow pool and buried itself for protection.
Keith and I are going to have a very busy spring.
© 2007
Mark Darien
All rights reserved
Please include this copyright notice if you share this article
Monday, March 26, 2007
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Complaint Lodged Against H&R Block
Mark and Keith of Toddville filed a formal complaint against H&R Block located in the Dorchester Square Shopping Center (next to the Walmart) today. They filed the complaint through H&R Block’s website.
The complaint alleges that they were misled on what they would be charged to have their taxes prepared, but zeroes in on the rude treatment by the H&R Block representative, Ms. Juanita. They further claim that they have never felt so embarrassed and belittled by a business simply because they can't quote you a good figure” before rendering their services.
H&R Block quickly responded to the complaint stating that they wish to have the district representative contact them to discuss the complaint. The email then provided a link to re-file the complaint since the original complaint didn’t make it clear which store treated them rudely. After clicking the link, Mark was directed to the complaint form he originally filed only fifteen minutes earlier.
“Now this don’t make sense,” said Mark. “When I first filed the complaint, I filled in the fields with the exact address of the store in question, but, judging by their response, since I didn’t include that information in the body of the complaint, they couldn’t figure out which store I was referring to. Maybe it’s a good thing I decided against letting them prepare out taxes.”
The complete complaint and H&R Block’s response is printed below.
Complaint:
About three weeks ago, I stopped in and asked how much it would
cost to file my taxes through them. They said they couldn't quote a
price, but prices started at $49.95 for a simple return and went up
depending on itemization and how complex.
Last week, I decided to take my taxes to them. Ms. Juanita greeted
me, with food in hand, and led me back to her desk. In ten minutes,
she copied all my info from my W2 (no itemization) and told me
the price would be $85. When I told her that we (me and my friend)
were told prices started at half that for returns with no itemization,
she said that price was for federal returns only. State returns cost more.
I told her that was not what we were told. She adamantly insisted that
is what we were told and that we only heard what we wanted to hear.
I told her I'd take my taxes elsewhere. At that point, she got rude about
"all the work she did" and do her a favor - if we come back next year,
don't ask for her.
Now, "all that work" was ten minutes of filling in a simple online form
that did all the work for her. Please tell Ms. Juanita that there are
computer games that require more skill and work than a simple tax return.
That said, I will never step foot in an H&R Block store again and most
certainly will dissuade anyone I know from utilizing your services. I have
never felt so embarrassed and belittled by a business simply because they
can't quote you a good figure for services they will render. Just what
reputable tax company would quote a figure for only federal returns and
not mention state returns cost more? Most people will bring all their
taxes to be done - not just one or the other.
My old tax preparer, Sedgwick in Baltimore, files my taxes for $37.
(They went up two dollars this year.) Ms. Juanita tried to bully me into
accepting her terms claiming I would waste more gas getting to
Baltimore and end up paying more. Please inform Ms. Juanita that even
if I didn't work in Baltimore and need to be up here every day anyway, I
could still bring my taxes here and, with round-trip gas prices - end up
paying two dollars more than what she wanted to charge for all of her
"hard work". That extra two dollars is worth alleviating the harassment
and embarrassment of dealing with your company representatives.
And please tell Ms. Juanita that I am not stupid and I heard the quoted
price correctly.
Thank you
Mark
H&R Block’s response:
Thank you for contacting H&R Block!
To address your concern, we would like to have a representative from
the District Office in your area follow up with you.
For future reference, your concern has been assigned a case number of
E032107-160158
Unfortunately, we were not able to determine the office where your
return was prepared from the information provided.
Please re-submit your inquiry at http://www.hrblock.com/customer_support/submit_a_question.jsp
and be sure to include the following information in the body of your e-mail:
- Address of the H&R Block office where your return was prepared
- Case number
You may also call 1-800-HRBLOCK (1-800-472-5625) to speak with a
Customer Support Specialist who will be happy to assist you. Please
reference the case number when calling.
Thank you for choosing H&R Block
The Client Relations Team
H&R Block
© 2007
Mark Darien
All rights reserved
Please include this copyright notice if you share this article
The complaint alleges that they were misled on what they would be charged to have their taxes prepared, but zeroes in on the rude treatment by the H&R Block representative, Ms. Juanita. They further claim that they have never felt so embarrassed and belittled by a business simply because they can't quote you a good figure” before rendering their services.
H&R Block quickly responded to the complaint stating that they wish to have the district representative contact them to discuss the complaint. The email then provided a link to re-file the complaint since the original complaint didn’t make it clear which store treated them rudely. After clicking the link, Mark was directed to the complaint form he originally filed only fifteen minutes earlier.
“Now this don’t make sense,” said Mark. “When I first filed the complaint, I filled in the fields with the exact address of the store in question, but, judging by their response, since I didn’t include that information in the body of the complaint, they couldn’t figure out which store I was referring to. Maybe it’s a good thing I decided against letting them prepare out taxes.”
The complete complaint and H&R Block’s response is printed below.
Complaint:
About three weeks ago, I stopped in and asked how much it would
cost to file my taxes through them. They said they couldn't quote a
price, but prices started at $49.95 for a simple return and went up
depending on itemization and how complex.
Last week, I decided to take my taxes to them. Ms. Juanita greeted
me, with food in hand, and led me back to her desk. In ten minutes,
she copied all my info from my W2 (no itemization) and told me
the price would be $85. When I told her that we (me and my friend)
were told prices started at half that for returns with no itemization,
she said that price was for federal returns only. State returns cost more.
I told her that was not what we were told. She adamantly insisted that
is what we were told and that we only heard what we wanted to hear.
I told her I'd take my taxes elsewhere. At that point, she got rude about
"all the work she did" and do her a favor - if we come back next year,
don't ask for her.
Now, "all that work" was ten minutes of filling in a simple online form
that did all the work for her. Please tell Ms. Juanita that there are
computer games that require more skill and work than a simple tax return.
That said, I will never step foot in an H&R Block store again and most
certainly will dissuade anyone I know from utilizing your services. I have
never felt so embarrassed and belittled by a business simply because they
can't quote you a good figure for services they will render. Just what
reputable tax company would quote a figure for only federal returns and
not mention state returns cost more? Most people will bring all their
taxes to be done - not just one or the other.
My old tax preparer, Sedgwick in Baltimore, files my taxes for $37.
(They went up two dollars this year.) Ms. Juanita tried to bully me into
accepting her terms claiming I would waste more gas getting to
Baltimore and end up paying more. Please inform Ms. Juanita that even
if I didn't work in Baltimore and need to be up here every day anyway, I
could still bring my taxes here and, with round-trip gas prices - end up
paying two dollars more than what she wanted to charge for all of her
"hard work". That extra two dollars is worth alleviating the harassment
and embarrassment of dealing with your company representatives.
And please tell Ms. Juanita that I am not stupid and I heard the quoted
price correctly.
Thank you
Mark
H&R Block’s response:
Thank you for contacting H&R Block!
To address your concern, we would like to have a representative from
the District Office in your area follow up with you.
For future reference, your concern has been assigned a case number of
E032107-160158
Unfortunately, we were not able to determine the office where your
return was prepared from the information provided.
Please re-submit your inquiry at http://www.hrblock.com/customer_support/submit_a_question.jsp
and be sure to include the following information in the body of your e-mail:
- Address of the H&R Block office where your return was prepared
- Case number
You may also call 1-800-HRBLOCK (1-800-472-5625) to speak with a
Customer Support Specialist who will be happy to assist you. Please
reference the case number when calling.
Thank you for choosing H&R Block
The Client Relations Team
H&R Block
© 2007
Mark Darien
All rights reserved
Please include this copyright notice if you share this article
Monday, March 19, 2007
Close Encounters of the Strange Kind
Editor’s Note: While the story below may read like a tall tale (a section that will be added to this blog in the near future) the account described below is 100% factual with no embellishments.
Before I relate Keith’s and my close encounter of the strange kind this morning, please bear with me as I fill in the background first.
Even though Keith grew up in the county long before it became another suburban blight of Baltimore and I grew up on the Eastern Shore, we both had grown far too accustomed to city life. We hold our fond childhood memories of the pitch-black night sky speckled with millions upon millions of stars, the eerie night sounds echoing in the dark woods, and things that go bump in the night.
City life erased all the stars; replaced the eerie night sounds with cars, sirens, people out and about, and an occasional gunshot; and the only thing that went bump in the night was someone begging for spare change.
Living far from the city lights – and people – every night we marvel at the night sky and its millions upon millions of stars. We try to rationalize what the eerie night sounds are. That’s a screech owl, not a woman crying for help or a restless spirit who hasn’t found peace. That rustling in the reeds is a deer or a fox, not a maniacal serial killer looking for victims to hack. That lonely cry is a sika stag singing to his female, not a night demon looking for souls to inhale or blood to drink. I’m pretty sure that Rice Krispies sound in the distance that slowly grew louder as it got closer was a night heron, but I didn’t stay long enough to figure it out. Thistle began acting strangely and nervously and when the dog appears to be spooked, it’s time to go in the house and hide under the covers.
About two months ago, Keith saw an alien outside the bedroom window as he slept. Clear as day, it was one of those bug-eyed aliens commonly seen in sci-fi shows, but this one had four arms instead of two. Now don’t laugh. Keith knows perfectly well he was dreaming and - as real as the dream may have seemed at the time - it was still a dream. There was no alien outside the window.
But even as adults, the dark nights and spooky sounds can bring out the scared little child in even the most logical and rational of adults.
This morning started out the same as any other work morning. We woke up, got ready for work, and while Keith packed our lunches, I went outside and started the truck. Every morning we have to start the truck up and let it run to either defrost all the ice accumulated over night or to dry out the windows from the dew if it wasn’t cold enough to freeze. I tuned in the oldies station and, of course, it’s dark when we leave so I turned on the headlights and went back inside.
Ten minutes later, we head on out to work. We get a ways down the road, about ten or fifteen minutes worth of driving. The radio goes static-y and my headlights go out. Before I could say anything, the lights come back on and the station comes in tune. A split second later, the radio goes static-y again and the headlights go out. I get as far as saying, “What” in “What’s going on?” and the lights come back on and the music plays again.
“What are you doing, Mark?”
“Nothing. It’s weird. The dashboard lights and the parking lights didn’t go out. And obviously the radio didn’t lose power because the static was there.” Jokingly, I added, “Look for a UFO.”
Keith looks out the window with child-like innocence. “Do you think there is one?”
“No. I was joking.”
“But that’s how it happens. The space ship interferes with the electrical system.”
Keith continues to scan the sky, trying his hardest to look directly above the truck. “Why didn’t you stop? It could have been right above us. I would love to visit another planet.”
“Keith, there’s no UFOs. Besides, if there were and I stopped, we’d be late for work.”
“There’s plenty of people who have claimed to be abducted. And plenty more people disappear without a trace.”
“Keith, you’re talking like UFOs are real. There aren’t any UFOs.”
“Probably not, but you never know.” His stare focused on a point in the sky. “Darn, that’s just a plane.”
“It is strange that the lights aren’t acting up now. Just at that spot back there.”
“Aww man, why didn’t you stop? I would’ve loved to see their spacecraft. Walk around and see all the planets as we fly by them”
“Keith, there’s no UFOs. Besides, if there were they lock you in a honeycomb cell. They don’t let you wander the ship like you’re on a sightseeing tour.”
“You don’t know that. If they were so evil, they’d have taken over this planet eons ago.”
“I don’t know about that. Some people say they do experiments and then implant them with microchips so they can track them. That don’t sound too friendly to me.”
“You watch too many X-Files. Only people with mental problems claim that.”
After a brief moment of silence, Keith added, “It probably wasn’t a UFO, but wouldn’t it have been cool if it was?”
“No, we’d have been late for work. Besides, they say that once you have a close encounter like that, they track you until they can get you. Maybe they’ll get us on the way home.”
“If the lights start acting weird, make sure you stop.”
“Hell no. They don’t take you until you stop the vehicle. I’m going to keep going.”
“Then I’ll jump out of the truck.”
“Fine. Just don’t roll into the ditch.”
“I need my music. Do you think they’d take us to the house so I can get my music?”
“Keith, you’re talking like they really exist and are after us.”
“I have to have my music. It’d be a long trip without my music.” He took one last look into the sky and sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. Of the millions of people around, why would they want to study me?”
Two hours later, we arrive in Baltimore without any further incidence. Now, logic tells us that most likely, the frozen dew began to melt and shorted something out in the headlights. A drop of dew hit the live wires; a quick zap dried it out; a second drop hit the wires again; a quick zap dried it out and that’s all there was to the “phenomenon”.
Ok, it doesn’t make complete sense. Why would only the headlights go out? And what was it with the interference in the radio? Shouldn’t it have gone dead, too? Maybe. Electricity is a mystery to me. They tell me the electrons travel at the speed of light in my computer, but that doesn’t explain why it’s so slow. The melting dew was a satisfactory answer for me.
A half hour later, Keith’s cell phone vibrates. “Who the Hell would be calling me this time of the morning?” he asked as he reached for his phone. “Oh, just a voice message.”
“I don’t know why anyone leaves me a message. I don’t know how to get them,” he said as he slid the phone back in its holder.
“ET, phone home. They’re trying to contact you because we didn’t stop for them.”
In the seven years I have known Keith, he has never been able to access his voice messages. When it comes to electronic gadgets, if there’s more than two buttons to push, it’s too complicated and a waste of time. Periodically, he would have someone at his job clear out his messages for him.
This time, he took the phone back out and said, “Let me see if I can figure this out.”
On his first try, for the first time in seven years (probably longer), he accessed his voice messages. He listened to them all and hung up.
“No ET. It was beeping me about all the old messages from last month I hadn’t cleared out yet.”
On the trip home, Keith hadn’t forgotten about my comment that the UFOs track people they have targeted.
“Do you think our lights will go out in the same area again?” he asked.
“I don’t know.”
“But you said they track people they’ve marked and I did see that one outside the window awhile back. I know I was dreaming, but maybe they’ve really been tracking me.”
“Well, if the lights go out, I’m not stopping. They don’t take people out of the vehicle until it’s stopped.”
“Who says?”
“It’s a rule. I don’t know who made it, but you never hear of people being snatched out of a moving vehicle. They always stop, first.”
“You better stop then. This world’s boring. I want to see a new world.”
“What’s so boring about this world?”
“I don’t know, but at least I won’t have to go to work tomorrow if they take me tonight.”
“Fine. I’ll stop and you jump out real quick then I’m hightailing it out of there. Someone’s gotta go home and feed Thistle.”
When we got within a mile of the area where we had the light trouble that morning, Keith began scanning the sky. Just before we got to the spot where our lights had gone out, I switched off the lights and turned them back on. At the moment I switched them off, Keith pointed to a star and began to say something. My timing couldn’t have been more perfect.
“Uh-oh. What’s happening?” I interrupted.
Keith smiled and responded, “You did that. But what is that light up there? Is it a star?”
“If I had to guess, I’d say Venus.”
“Did I scare you?”
“No, I knew it was you.”
“Not even for a brief second you like didn’t get butterflies or something?”
“No, I’m not that gullible.”
We continued home without further incidence. Keith played my joke calmly, and even if he won’t admit it, I’ll believe that at least for a split second, I had him going.
As I parked the truck, I said, “You know, they take a lot of people while they are sleeping. Maybe they’ll zap you out tonight.”
“Really?” he asked with his child-like enthusiasm.
“Yeah, really.”
“Somehow, I think our lights going out is a fluke. I didn’t even think of UFO until you said something. But it was fun thinking about the possibility, but I’ll be going to work tomorrow.”
Keith got out of the truck and gazed up at the night sky one last time. “But that Venus sure is a bright star.”
© 2007
Mark Darien
All rights reserved
Please include this copyright notice if you share this article
Before I relate Keith’s and my close encounter of the strange kind this morning, please bear with me as I fill in the background first.
Even though Keith grew up in the county long before it became another suburban blight of Baltimore and I grew up on the Eastern Shore, we both had grown far too accustomed to city life. We hold our fond childhood memories of the pitch-black night sky speckled with millions upon millions of stars, the eerie night sounds echoing in the dark woods, and things that go bump in the night.
City life erased all the stars; replaced the eerie night sounds with cars, sirens, people out and about, and an occasional gunshot; and the only thing that went bump in the night was someone begging for spare change.
Living far from the city lights – and people – every night we marvel at the night sky and its millions upon millions of stars. We try to rationalize what the eerie night sounds are. That’s a screech owl, not a woman crying for help or a restless spirit who hasn’t found peace. That rustling in the reeds is a deer or a fox, not a maniacal serial killer looking for victims to hack. That lonely cry is a sika stag singing to his female, not a night demon looking for souls to inhale or blood to drink. I’m pretty sure that Rice Krispies sound in the distance that slowly grew louder as it got closer was a night heron, but I didn’t stay long enough to figure it out. Thistle began acting strangely and nervously and when the dog appears to be spooked, it’s time to go in the house and hide under the covers.
About two months ago, Keith saw an alien outside the bedroom window as he slept. Clear as day, it was one of those bug-eyed aliens commonly seen in sci-fi shows, but this one had four arms instead of two. Now don’t laugh. Keith knows perfectly well he was dreaming and - as real as the dream may have seemed at the time - it was still a dream. There was no alien outside the window.
But even as adults, the dark nights and spooky sounds can bring out the scared little child in even the most logical and rational of adults.
This morning started out the same as any other work morning. We woke up, got ready for work, and while Keith packed our lunches, I went outside and started the truck. Every morning we have to start the truck up and let it run to either defrost all the ice accumulated over night or to dry out the windows from the dew if it wasn’t cold enough to freeze. I tuned in the oldies station and, of course, it’s dark when we leave so I turned on the headlights and went back inside.
Ten minutes later, we head on out to work. We get a ways down the road, about ten or fifteen minutes worth of driving. The radio goes static-y and my headlights go out. Before I could say anything, the lights come back on and the station comes in tune. A split second later, the radio goes static-y again and the headlights go out. I get as far as saying, “What” in “What’s going on?” and the lights come back on and the music plays again.
“What are you doing, Mark?”
“Nothing. It’s weird. The dashboard lights and the parking lights didn’t go out. And obviously the radio didn’t lose power because the static was there.” Jokingly, I added, “Look for a UFO.”
Keith looks out the window with child-like innocence. “Do you think there is one?”
“No. I was joking.”
“But that’s how it happens. The space ship interferes with the electrical system.”
Keith continues to scan the sky, trying his hardest to look directly above the truck. “Why didn’t you stop? It could have been right above us. I would love to visit another planet.”
“Keith, there’s no UFOs. Besides, if there were and I stopped, we’d be late for work.”
“There’s plenty of people who have claimed to be abducted. And plenty more people disappear without a trace.”
“Keith, you’re talking like UFOs are real. There aren’t any UFOs.”
“Probably not, but you never know.” His stare focused on a point in the sky. “Darn, that’s just a plane.”
“It is strange that the lights aren’t acting up now. Just at that spot back there.”
“Aww man, why didn’t you stop? I would’ve loved to see their spacecraft. Walk around and see all the planets as we fly by them”
“Keith, there’s no UFOs. Besides, if there were they lock you in a honeycomb cell. They don’t let you wander the ship like you’re on a sightseeing tour.”
“You don’t know that. If they were so evil, they’d have taken over this planet eons ago.”
“I don’t know about that. Some people say they do experiments and then implant them with microchips so they can track them. That don’t sound too friendly to me.”
“You watch too many X-Files. Only people with mental problems claim that.”
After a brief moment of silence, Keith added, “It probably wasn’t a UFO, but wouldn’t it have been cool if it was?”
“No, we’d have been late for work. Besides, they say that once you have a close encounter like that, they track you until they can get you. Maybe they’ll get us on the way home.”
“If the lights start acting weird, make sure you stop.”
“Hell no. They don’t take you until you stop the vehicle. I’m going to keep going.”
“Then I’ll jump out of the truck.”
“Fine. Just don’t roll into the ditch.”
“I need my music. Do you think they’d take us to the house so I can get my music?”
“Keith, you’re talking like they really exist and are after us.”
“I have to have my music. It’d be a long trip without my music.” He took one last look into the sky and sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. Of the millions of people around, why would they want to study me?”
Two hours later, we arrive in Baltimore without any further incidence. Now, logic tells us that most likely, the frozen dew began to melt and shorted something out in the headlights. A drop of dew hit the live wires; a quick zap dried it out; a second drop hit the wires again; a quick zap dried it out and that’s all there was to the “phenomenon”.
Ok, it doesn’t make complete sense. Why would only the headlights go out? And what was it with the interference in the radio? Shouldn’t it have gone dead, too? Maybe. Electricity is a mystery to me. They tell me the electrons travel at the speed of light in my computer, but that doesn’t explain why it’s so slow. The melting dew was a satisfactory answer for me.
A half hour later, Keith’s cell phone vibrates. “Who the Hell would be calling me this time of the morning?” he asked as he reached for his phone. “Oh, just a voice message.”
“I don’t know why anyone leaves me a message. I don’t know how to get them,” he said as he slid the phone back in its holder.
“ET, phone home. They’re trying to contact you because we didn’t stop for them.”
In the seven years I have known Keith, he has never been able to access his voice messages. When it comes to electronic gadgets, if there’s more than two buttons to push, it’s too complicated and a waste of time. Periodically, he would have someone at his job clear out his messages for him.
This time, he took the phone back out and said, “Let me see if I can figure this out.”
On his first try, for the first time in seven years (probably longer), he accessed his voice messages. He listened to them all and hung up.
“No ET. It was beeping me about all the old messages from last month I hadn’t cleared out yet.”
On the trip home, Keith hadn’t forgotten about my comment that the UFOs track people they have targeted.
“Do you think our lights will go out in the same area again?” he asked.
“I don’t know.”
“But you said they track people they’ve marked and I did see that one outside the window awhile back. I know I was dreaming, but maybe they’ve really been tracking me.”
“Well, if the lights go out, I’m not stopping. They don’t take people out of the vehicle until it’s stopped.”
“Who says?”
“It’s a rule. I don’t know who made it, but you never hear of people being snatched out of a moving vehicle. They always stop, first.”
“You better stop then. This world’s boring. I want to see a new world.”
“What’s so boring about this world?”
“I don’t know, but at least I won’t have to go to work tomorrow if they take me tonight.”
“Fine. I’ll stop and you jump out real quick then I’m hightailing it out of there. Someone’s gotta go home and feed Thistle.”
When we got within a mile of the area where we had the light trouble that morning, Keith began scanning the sky. Just before we got to the spot where our lights had gone out, I switched off the lights and turned them back on. At the moment I switched them off, Keith pointed to a star and began to say something. My timing couldn’t have been more perfect.
“Uh-oh. What’s happening?” I interrupted.
Keith smiled and responded, “You did that. But what is that light up there? Is it a star?”
“If I had to guess, I’d say Venus.”
“Did I scare you?”
“No, I knew it was you.”
“Not even for a brief second you like didn’t get butterflies or something?”
“No, I’m not that gullible.”
We continued home without further incidence. Keith played my joke calmly, and even if he won’t admit it, I’ll believe that at least for a split second, I had him going.
As I parked the truck, I said, “You know, they take a lot of people while they are sleeping. Maybe they’ll zap you out tonight.”
“Really?” he asked with his child-like enthusiasm.
“Yeah, really.”
“Somehow, I think our lights going out is a fluke. I didn’t even think of UFO until you said something. But it was fun thinking about the possibility, but I’ll be going to work tomorrow.”
Keith got out of the truck and gazed up at the night sky one last time. “But that Venus sure is a bright star.”
© 2007
Mark Darien
All rights reserved
Please include this copyright notice if you share this article
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