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“Shrubbery”

They were having this anti-marijuana convention at my hometown’s university, and they were playing that song that’s like, “I just wanna feel this moment.” I was walking around, because I hated being at my house, and I forgot I was even supposed to work. My boss saw me.

“Mike!” he yelled. I just kept walking with my head on the ground.
“Mike!” he repeated. He started running toward me.
“Oh yeah,” I said. “Sorry, something came up.”
“This is twice you’ve missed work this week. Is everything ok?”
“Yeah,” I said. Of course everything was ok, obviously.
“Well, can you make it in later?”
“Yeah,” I said, “I actually thought I was supposed to work the later shift.”
“Oh,” he said. “Ok. We can probably squeeze you in then, then.”
“Alright,” I said. “Really ‘preciate it.” I excelled in situations in which it was proper to talk in a monotone. I kept walking, and I sat down a little ways down, and started looking at this shrubbery. I was all hopped up on antibiotics, so I kept staring at this shrubbery for like 20 seconds. This lady I worked with walked up, out of nowhere.
“Cha-cha!” she kind of cackled, in a cackle. “Just spacin’ out, are ya?” Ah, yes. It’s always when you’re most deeply engrossed in the shrubbery that someone comes up and defeats your whole purpose of existence.

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