The Punky Monkey was only a picture on the comfy blanket. The blanket was used by a small girl who liked to nap with her favorite comfy Punky Monkey. She would mimic the sounds of the Punky Monkey on command which caused a chuckle by her funky parents. She would never part her attention from the allure of the warmth and security of her pal the Punky Monkey. Her funky parents went to extreme measures to remove her talons from the gunky Punky Monkey. The funky parents had another comfy Punky Monkey blanket in reserve that they referred to as number two. While the hunky number two served its valiant tour of duty, the mechanically tuned washer cleaned the gunky Punky Monkey. The statically charged drier finished the job and the comfy Punky Monkey found its way back to the talons of the small girl. Her lovely smile
filled the room and made the comfy Punky Monkey blush.
It was time to go home and relax as my week had gone so poorly. This simple request of a balding fat man made my mind go into a vegetative state. The drive seemed fluid and almost angelic until I reached the half way point. My cell phone rang and filled the mindless air with the catchy tune of Eye of the Tiger. I could picture myself running up a flight of stairs and bursting into a meat packing facilities freezer with my fists blaring into the naked beef. Of course, I would immediately fall over and gasp for air as my lungs would surely explode. The phone rings again and the image dissolves into the cars bit bucket and I answer. The screaming kids reach my ears first and forecast the call to be one of get the Hell home and help me with the kids. I quickly and wisely agree that my presence is needed most urgently at home. During this update I get the news of the day. The air conditioner is not functioning and the temperature is somewhere around 15 Kelvin or really hot. I expertly navigate through the call and exit with about six minutes of quality Jay time to think about crawling around the hot attic. My arrival at the house is met with delighted kids screaming, jumping, holding hand grenades and asking why the air conditioning is not fixed. My wife pipes in with a quip about bringing in a HVAC company to fix the issues and stop putting Band-Aids on the equipment. My quick intellect alerts me that there will be no rebuttal as she is upset from the days heat in the house and wide-open children.
The attic is as I remembered, full of heat, humidity, joyless love and itchy fiberglass. These items would be a welcome site for some East Bloc countries, but it isn’t my style. The air exchange unit was being utterly ridiculous and squawked every time I touched the unit. Please insert the laughter of your favorite reference to a unit.
An hour passed like poop through a goose and I realized that the Freon line had frozen. The fix was simple and would only take a hairdryer, extension cord, cursing, talking to myself and good old patience, which I was fresh out of. Once this chore was complete, I visited the compressor at the side of the house. I cannot fully explain the bizarre appearance of this event, but will try to give you some sense. Picture the fat balding man in shorts and a classy wife beater standing in front of the compressor with a flashlight giving it a hairdryer makeover. You cannot make this stuff up.
I quickly made my way back into the house and a miracle had occurred as there was cool air flowing through the house. I made a mental note to give extra thanks at church on Sunday morning. Feeling satisfied that I had conquered the day’s last challenge, a celebration was in order. I grabbed my ice-cold water thermos and departed the house for a brief walk at 10 PM. The night air was full of humidity and void of human presence. I was thankful for some peaceful reflection time that normally included such things as work and putting the air conditioner event into an epic short story.
Just about the time when I thought my walk would be uneventful, I arrived at a car backing out of a driveway. I slowed to allow the vehicle to complete its maneuvers, but realized it was moving extremely slow. Perhaps they were waiting for me to walk past as a gesture of good will? I didn’t know the answer as I awkwardly stood staring at the car as it lurked backwards. After about three minutes, the car was in the street and came to a complete stop. Another tense minute transpired as the driver pushed the vehicle into drive from reverse. The backup lights turned off and I knew my walk would continue. This assumption would prove to be wrong.
I decided that my walk was not as important as the driver and the car. I am not sure the exact amount of time it took for the driver to realize the gas needed to be depressed before it would move forward. As I took a swig of my water, the car moved forward and I unlocked my leg brakes. I fully expected the driver to move forth in an expedited manor but that didn’t occur. The speed was about one Jay. Specifically, it was traveling the same speed as I was walking as I kept up with it until it reached the stop sign at the bottom of the hill. The turn signal appeared out of nowhere and of course it was traveling the same direction I was. I rounded the corner past the stationary vehicle and intently looked in the window. I could see a driver and what appeared to be a midget sitting in their lap.
My mind wondered as the distance increased from my powerful walking. I started to think about all the meetings and tasks that needed to be completed at work the next day. At that moment a car passed me and it was the slow rider traveling at about two Jay’s. The driver had found the gas and away they went over the hill and out of my walking life. I hoped that they wouldn’t crash as a result of the massive speeds. My walking pace increased as I wanted to see where the car was going. There were multiple side street turns that would take them out of the residential area but they choose the cul-de-sac route. The allure of seeing them turn the vehicle 180 degrees was too tempting. I picked my pace up and the illumination of high beams appeared over the horizon. This instant blast of light provided a nice case of temporary blindness. I turned my head down and used the street gutter to guide me.
I walked for a bit and the bright lights were not moving toward me and were on the wrong side of the road. I would normally find this odd, but figured it was par for course. I moved my line to the other side of the road so that I could get a nice view in the vehicle. The anticipation was soon extinguished as I was able to get a clear look into the vehicle. The driver was female and there was a young infant, which I mistook as a midget, in her arms. She had apparently driven the several blocks with the baby asleep in her arms. What I couldn’t figure out was why she hadn’t gotten out of the car.
I soon found myself walking around the cul-de-sac and back up the hill towards the car. Much to my surprise I saw a figure carrying the small baby to the house and in the front door. I was relieved that some change had occurred and then noticed that the passenger side door was left open, car running and lights still glaring. As I passed the vehicle, the woman and a man emerged from the house. They spoke in a language that I am not fluent in, but probably
went something like this. “Thanks for letting me use your car to drive my kid around the block in a safe manner.”
I probably had about a block or two behind me when the car went flying past me and disappeared from my vision. What a strange night is had been and was looking forward to getting home. I soon reached the house where the vehicle fun had all begun. I was not really surprised that the car was sitting in the driveway. The strange thing was that both the passenger and driver side doors were open, car running and high beams on. The male driver was not in the car and I could only surmise that he had gone into the house. The reason for my deduction was that all the lights in the house were on and the side door was propped open. I slowed to try and catch a glimpse of the unfolding drama but nothing happened. I figured that thing couldn’t get any stranger and continued on to the house.
I soon found myself at my front door and couldn’t get my keys out fast enough to get inside. The blast of cool air was refreshing on multiple levels as I made my way upstairs. I was hoping that someone was awake to talk about the events and how they unfolded. My excitement for telling the story was extinguished as everyone was fast asleep. The only way to preserve the story for future generations was to sit at the PC.