When A Fabulous Dress Can Cause Distress

I work on delivering packages for a major online store. They have recently started scheduling delivering as early as 8:00 am, so this means I’m up around 2:30 am to be ready for the early-morning delivery blocks. I am on the way when I realize I should put more gas in the car and grab some liquid caffeine at the same time, so I pull into a local gas station to tank up.

When I get there, I notice a rather thin man walking around in a thin coat — which is understandable, as it can get quite cold at night here, even in the desert. What I do not expect is that he is wearing sandals… and a red, ankle-length dress. I am a little unnerved, but he doesn’t make any violent moves toward me as I get out of my car and doesn’t even seem to notice me. I think, “Live and let live,” and head in to get a drink and some fuel.

As I’m paying, I mention the guy to the cashier, because he should probably know the guy’s around for safety reasons. When I describe him, he says, “Yeah… he used to be a cashier at one of our other stores.”

Already thinking this night might be a little too surreal, I ask, “Used to be?”

The cashier responds, “Yeah. He got fired when he spilled a soft-serve cone on the floor and then began licking it up. He hangs around a few of the stores sometimes.”

When I step outside, the man is gone, leaving no trace behind. I pump my gas, looking around me multiple times, but he does not reappear.

I still think about him. Shine on, you crazy, dress-wearing, ice-cream-off-the-floor-licking diamond.