Lyle Anderson was just about to have an intimate date with his girlfriend in a little secluded part of the hollow when his mum showed up. In the hollow. With his girlfriend. This was Lyle's life in a nutshell.
There was also the time when Lyle was attacked by bees, which pushed him less than a meter across military lines, forcing heavy duty guns to be aimed at him.
There was the time that he fell into the ditch. Or was stuck trying to defend the local nudist colony in the court, a job which required him witnessing far too many naked bums for his lifetime.
And there was the time that his stupid twin brothers showed up and threw mud bombs at him. Or that time when he was running alongside the beach and the British soldiers ran him into the sand and water with their horses. Or how about the time those thugs hung him from a bulldozer and dropped him into a vat of liquid cement. That probably took the cake.
Lyle furrowed his eyebrows at these memories as he worked studiously in his crammed little office. Wow, he thought. I seriously must have some sort of 'bad-luck' curse laid on me! The truth was, he never really questioned his bad luck, as it had always been there his whole life.
He had worked extremely hard in college, and yet, when it was time to take the exam, he performed miserably. Yes, he passed the exam, so he still did better than half of his peers. But he got the lowest passing score, which meant hardly anyone wanted to hire him.
His dream was to go to London, but whenever he got a job interview, the big wig lawyers always wrote him off immediately because they thought his suit was too outdated, as he later found out.
So he was stuck working in Marketshipborough, with Peter Kingdom, who, now that he thought about it, also had pretty terrible luck. And truth be told he loved his job, really he did. In fact, what was he even saying? He had a girlfriend. He was co-owner of a law firm, even if it only consisted of two people!
He was a lawyer, and while he might not have hit the big leagues in London, he was pursuing his dream. After all, what more could a young man ask for? He slapped a smile on his face and entered the common entrance to get some tea from Gloria.
"Hi Gloria, you look lovely today," he complimented her warmly. She offered him some tea.
"Oh, thank you, Lyle," she said disbelievingly. Her expression changed to one of solicitude. "Um, Lyle, you have…a bit of a blemish on your face," she noted.
Oh God, he thought. Not another bee sting! Gloria handed him her pocket mirror and he peered into it. Was that, a zit?! He hadn't had acne since he was a teenager, and now he had a bloody pimple the size of Russia on his face!
"It's just a pimple, dear. It will go away," Gloria assured him.
"But I have a dinner date with Emily tonight! I'm meeting with her parents!" Lyle exclaimed. She smiled sympathetically.
"Sorry Lyle. I could touch it up with a bit of make-up. Seems you just have a bit of bad luck today," she said. There was silence. And then Lyle burst out laughing, startling the middle-aged woman.
"No thank you, Gloria, haha! I'll, ha, be fine," he said with a wave, and went back into his crammed, little office. And he would be fine, because he did have bad luck, but a lifetime of wonder.