You would think if someone passed out cold on a hard wood floor, probably
full of nails that could puncture your skin and make you bleed to death,
not to mention that you very probably have a concussion, perhaps even
permanent brain damage and a dented head that SOMEONE would notice and help
a poor battered soul up.
But when I woke up, everyone else was either dancing, eating, drinking or...well, it doesn't matter. The point is, I fainted and nobody noticed. I sat up and looked around. Where was I again? I stood up a little shakily and noticed a smashed jar of pickles on the ground. Who would be so careless as to drop a jar of pickles and not clean it all up? And who would eat those things anyway? Ga-ross!!! "Wait a second!" I said loudly. I was suddenly very confused. I just realized... "Who am I?" I shrieked.
The entire bar turned and looked at me.
The bartender shook his head sadly. "It's just too bad that people can't have alcohol in moderation." He came around the bar and approached me. "Would you like me to drive you home, ma'am?"
I started getting teary. "But I don't know where I live. I just remember sitting up and seeing a jar of pickles. I don't remember my whole life before that! My whole life is pickles!" I wailed.
The bartender patted my arm. "Once you sober up a little, you'll be fine." He told me, but I was really starting to freak him out.
"Pickles, pickles PICKLES!" I screamed. "My life amounts up to one thing! Pickles! Big, green juicy cucumbers that have been soaked in vinegar!"
Suddenly I was on the floor again. Someone had thrown me down. When I opened my eyes, I saw a man. He was wearing dirty old clothes that seemed to shimmer as he held a glinting pair of scissors above my head. His hair was dead and feathery, and his face was hollow, as if he hadn't eaten all his life. His complexion was pasty and unattractive... but he didn't have acne! He looked hungry for love, or maybe he just wanted a margarita.
Whatever the case, I suddenly knew what love at first sight was. Love at first sight. How do I describe it? It isn't going to Burger King and getting a Mighty Big Kid's Meal Double Cheeseburger smeared in ketchup, mustard and cheddar cheese. It isn't having a chest cold and... have I said this already?
The man looked a little familiar. "Have I met you somewhere?" I asked him, for a moment forgetting that he looked kind of scary with those scissors. He was foaming a little. He reminded me of Fordo, my favorite character in my favorite movie, Lord of the Pickles: Return of the Pickle. WAIT A SECOND! All of a sudden, I remembered everything: the stuffed pickle I had instead of a teddy bear when I was two, the rocking pickle I got for my fifth birthday, my prize-winning essay on pickle farming I wrote in seventh grade, that all-you-can-eat illegal pickle party I had when I was seventeen... all of it. "Hey! I remember my life!" I suddenly yelled, and forgetting the ominous scissors above me, sat up. Ow.
But when I woke up, everyone else was either dancing, eating, drinking or...well, it doesn't matter. The point is, I fainted and nobody noticed. I sat up and looked around. Where was I again? I stood up a little shakily and noticed a smashed jar of pickles on the ground. Who would be so careless as to drop a jar of pickles and not clean it all up? And who would eat those things anyway? Ga-ross!!! "Wait a second!" I said loudly. I was suddenly very confused. I just realized... "Who am I?" I shrieked.
The entire bar turned and looked at me.
The bartender shook his head sadly. "It's just too bad that people can't have alcohol in moderation." He came around the bar and approached me. "Would you like me to drive you home, ma'am?"
I started getting teary. "But I don't know where I live. I just remember sitting up and seeing a jar of pickles. I don't remember my whole life before that! My whole life is pickles!" I wailed.
The bartender patted my arm. "Once you sober up a little, you'll be fine." He told me, but I was really starting to freak him out.
"Pickles, pickles PICKLES!" I screamed. "My life amounts up to one thing! Pickles! Big, green juicy cucumbers that have been soaked in vinegar!"
Suddenly I was on the floor again. Someone had thrown me down. When I opened my eyes, I saw a man. He was wearing dirty old clothes that seemed to shimmer as he held a glinting pair of scissors above my head. His hair was dead and feathery, and his face was hollow, as if he hadn't eaten all his life. His complexion was pasty and unattractive... but he didn't have acne! He looked hungry for love, or maybe he just wanted a margarita.
Whatever the case, I suddenly knew what love at first sight was. Love at first sight. How do I describe it? It isn't going to Burger King and getting a Mighty Big Kid's Meal Double Cheeseburger smeared in ketchup, mustard and cheddar cheese. It isn't having a chest cold and... have I said this already?
The man looked a little familiar. "Have I met you somewhere?" I asked him, for a moment forgetting that he looked kind of scary with those scissors. He was foaming a little. He reminded me of Fordo, my favorite character in my favorite movie, Lord of the Pickles: Return of the Pickle. WAIT A SECOND! All of a sudden, I remembered everything: the stuffed pickle I had instead of a teddy bear when I was two, the rocking pickle I got for my fifth birthday, my prize-winning essay on pickle farming I wrote in seventh grade, that all-you-can-eat illegal pickle party I had when I was seventeen... all of it. "Hey! I remember my life!" I suddenly yelled, and forgetting the ominous scissors above me, sat up. Ow.