Middle of the Night Adventure
In the middle of the night, while the burglers burgle and the roosters stare at the clock, wide awake with anticipation of their upcoming performance, weird things are happening. Most of them aren’t visible to the naked eye, and not just because of how dark it is in the middle of the night and how the naked eye likes to have light to illuminate its surroundings before it’ll give in and show you what it’s seeing.
No, most of the weird things going on at night aren’t visible because they are invisible. Or microscopic. Or well hidden behind hedges. Or painted black as The Rolling Stones so prophetically predicted so many years ago. All of these things are reasons why you wouldn’t be able to see many of the weird things going on at night.
Take last night. Please. Ha! No, just kidding, I’ll keep last night around. Tammy and I were pogoing to the store for some cat treats (the cat was threatening to blow up the house unless we complied) and we saw a glowing tube lying next to the sidewalk.
“That’s strange,” Tammy said. “You never see glowing tubes in the daytime.”
Sure enough, it turns out that glowing tubes are purely a nighttime phenomena. We quickly took pictures of it to send to the National Enquirer and Newsweek, figuring that if we, the well-travelled travellers that we are, have never seen them before, then maybe there are others around the world who haven’t.
I wish I could share them with you, but I think that’s giving things away before we get paid. I’m sure the newspapers and magazines will be coming in with one bid after another for these photos, until the bids get high enough that we can retire in luxury in Malaysia, feasting nightly on shrimp by the light of the glowing tubes that bankrolled the whole retirement to begin with. We can hop in our private jet and fly over to Iraq to stock up on munitions and oil when we need to. You have to keep your weapons stockpiles high, otherwise your shrimp-bringing servants could defect at any time.
Yes, it’s a grand vision of glowy shrimp eating. I know you might say that I’m getting a little carried away and counting my shrimp before they’re hatched or deveined, but that’s just me. I’m a pre-deveiner counter.
Wasn’t that a song? I’m a joker, I’m a smoker, I’m a pre-deveiner toker? Something like that? Man, those 70′s and their shrimp songs. They got a little psychadelic and out there. I’ll just chalk it up to food poisoning and hope that there wasn’t really anything else involved.