The day was like any morning during the week for me. I was listening to the morning show and driving I85 north to my destination, the job I loathe. Not thinking about it much, but concentrating on getting to work on time, I was rolling. Police would say, I was speeding, but I was driving cautiously. While switching lanes because my exit ramp was near, I hear a loud pop. I check my rear view to see if I rolled over a rock or bottle that hit my wheel well and saw nothing, so I proceeded to work.

When I get on the ramp this car with out of town plates tries to speed pass me from behind. I try to accelerate so she would have to break and follow behind me, but her 6 cylinder Volvo passes ever so gracefully, me in my 4 cylinder Xterra. She knew she was wrong cutting me off, so I did like every other road raged driver would do, yelled out expletives and made my right turn after her.

After the quick simmer of emotion, I start to hear the result of the thump on the interstate. When I get to the entrance of my job’s parking lot, I get the feeling of my tire being flat. I pass the first entrance thinking that I could make it to the tire place up the street. We’ll just say that I only could make it as far as the next office building entrance. Now disgruntled and discouraged, I pull my car out of the mouth of the entrance so I can change the flat. The grounds keeper walks up and instantly starts helping. I didn’t really care for any help, but I didn’t turn him down. Without hesitation he starts talking to me and taking the lugs out of the tire. After taking the flat tire off he asks if I would trust him to take the tire and he would plug it with some stuff he had to fix flats. He said, it wouldn’t take but maybe 15 minutes, and he would bring the tire to me in my office building. I agreed and give him my information where I can be found.

About 10 minutes later, he comes to the office and we go down to his golf cart where he has my plugged tire with air in it. He tells me about how he and his so called friend had started a business with the stuff he used to fix the flat tire. And how his friend took all of the investment money and left him with the nothing but bills. He was so nice. I offered to pay for the tire plugging, but he declined and drove off on his golf cart.

“He tells me have a wonderful day”, and I reply, “God Bless You” and he leaves. His name is Dale, and he had it in his heart to help others even if one person did him dirty. He wasn’t looking for rewards, just the good feeling that he helped another. Karma, like Earl talks about on the television show. Dale is a good Godly person, who will prevail in life because he has decided to help the world with an act of kindness. He knows that if one helps another in the name of God, God will show favor. I truly appreciate what Dale did. God is truly great.

Thanks for the Presents,

Patrick R. Steward

God’s Masterpiece

Two women were sitting on a bench when they see one of the ladies husbands leaving a floral shop with a beautiful bouquet of flowers. The husband's wife's friend says" there goes your husband and it looks like he got you something special for tonight." The lady says "all shucks, now I will have to leave my legs up in the air for 3 days straight." Her friend says to her, "why you can't just put them in a vase".

I got this dude that sits beside me at work. He is the most irritating person I can think of. He has all of these sound effects that he does throughout the work day. I believe that the guy that does the score for Star Wars is doing it. Or it might even be After Effects. But any who, he burps, sneezes, coughs, blow his nose, and any other disgusting thing that I can't think of right now. After blowing his nose, at his desk, he has to examine the mucus and snots that has just left his head. He looks at it for about 2 minutes making sure his brains are still in his head. Then he grunts and puts the snot paper towel back inside of his pants pocket. That is right, A paper towel. I asked him before if he could blow his nose in the restroom, but he decided that it is too far to travel for some smooth, soft tissue paper. That is also the same paper towel that he wipes his mouth with and the pulse and blood that is on his arm. Did I mention that he picked at those all day? And no, he doesn't wash his hands anytime, but wants to touch any and everything. After he plays Hacky-sac, he walks past the restroom and comes to his desk and grace us with the loves tranquil sounds of juicy wet lung butter mixed with throat hauk. Ooo, that is so sweet to the eardrums. I would like to pinch his larynx. I will have to add the paper towel that he left on his key board for a week and used it again when he returned to work.

I will periodically have creative tid bits after I get off my throne and clean up my shit. I am under construction to develop greatness. Currently learning from comics in the Queen City and other greats abroad on my delivery and style. Keep inspiring me FOD and check back if you like.