There's No Place Like Home For the Holidays. For some reason, the fulfillment department manager from my last job is visiting up here for the Christmas holidays. I am preparing to leave the store, she collars me and wrings a long soul kiss out of me. Iw, what about my breath? Nikki is with her, and submits to a frigid "happy holidays" kiss, but there is no tongue forthcoming from her. Thank God.
I am not a crook. Either I am just out prowling, or I have a legitimate reason for breaking into the house of the Polish family up the block. Too bad I don't remember. I can't find whatever has drawn me in here, and I am trapped in the kitchen when the father rounds the corner, holding a shotgun. I reach for the sky. In what seems like an hours-long sequence, I eventually persuade him that I meant no harm, I was looking for a mis-delivered Xmas gift, a breaking-and-entering record is going to needlessly screw up my whole life... He lets me go, to philosophize with one of the neighborhood kids. My parents don't even have to know.
Slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. In a penniless back alley production of Romeo and Juliet, I fall through the roof and have to recite my part of the "Wherefore art thou, Romeo" dialogue with a mouthful of shards of very thin glass mirror. Spitting it out, careful not to cut my lips or tongue on the way out, there is one piece that doesn't fit out my mouth! How did it get in there? I start to choke (I was probably snoring), and wake. It's 2 minutes to when my alarm normally alarms.