This Fable Has No Animals


remember flatline date guy who i sort of completely rejected and then he argued with me about it and then later apologized for arguing about it? well. he was not done. today he sent me a story. it was about two pages long. so i will give you the highlights again, like a sportscaster. i guess dating is sport…my comments are in italics:

“As a sort of addendum to [apologizing for not accepting your rejection of future dates], I thought I’d share a story with you that I told to the writer’s group that night after I met up with you. (Oooh ooh Storytime Storytime!) You can take from it what you will, but something tells me I probably wouldn’t have told this story to the group if I hadn’t met you earlier that night. (My other name is Aesop).

Now I know you think, given the previous paragraph, that I said something about meeting up with you, but I didn’t do that (you self-centered hoochie). I told them about something that happened at work that day. I work in administration, and since we’re government, our department has a ton of filing cabinets to store and archive a good decade’s worth of files and documents. I mean, you have no idea (you narrow-minded cretin). We also have a few key rings full of keys that supposedly can lock or unlock all of the filling cabinets we have in our possession, and of course all these keys are also decades old and unlabeled (i default to extraneous details in my own stories).

Okay? So I was tasked to find out which keys went to which filing cabinets. This easily took most of my day, and in its course, I did two completely retarded things (the retarded things are too complex to be explained, ironically).

In the end, I probably found maybe five keys that actually went to any of the filing cabinets, and a bunch of keys that didn’t seem to have any functional purpose whatsoever, and two completely inaccessible cabinets. The locksmith was out that day. And that’s pretty much the story of my life. (Good Grief! Poor Charlie Brown!)

I take myself way too seriously.

That’s it. That’s the whole point. (cue Oprah-studio-audience applause and laugh track)

I told my story to my writer’s group because, as I was taking the train home after accidentally ditching you at the subway, I laughed. I mean, it wasn’t a crazy guffaw that gets the kind of look like you had just teleported into their subway car. Just a little chuckle, partially for all the trivial situations we take so seriously in life, but mostly just for me. (This story has been brought to you by the Hallmark Writers’ Union…we are currently on strike).”

ANYHOW, you gotta appreciate the guy for giving everyone involved (i.e., him and me) closure with a nice little parable there. for the kids at home. in any case, i admire him. because of this article. i admire all hopers and dreamers and schemers:
New York Times, biotch.

2 thoughts on “This Fable Has No Animals

  1. Ron says:

    “…partially for all the trivial situations we take so seriously in life, but mostly just for me.”*Tear*now that guy’s got it! that’s the problem people have — taking things way too seriously..i remember a little fable that had a nice moral about taking things too seriously…“There was a Shepherd Boy who tended his sheep at the foot of a mountain near a dark forest. It was lonely for him, so he devised a plan to get a little company. He rushed down towards the village calling out ‘Wolf, Wolf,’ and the villagers came out to meet him. This pleased the boy so much that a few days after he tried the same trick, and again the villagers came to his help. Shortly after this a Wolf actually did come out from the forest. The boy cried out ‘Wolf, Wolf,’ still louder than before. But this time the villagers, who had been fooled twice before, thought the boy was again lying, and nobody came to his aid. So the Wolf made a good meal off the boy’s flock. “the moral, of course, is don’t take anything too seriously. if those stupid villagers had only laughed at his jokes and had not been so uptight they would have come every time and seen the wolf the last time. duh.

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