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Published June 30, 2012 More Info »
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Written by Frankie Berns
1 Funny Votes
1 Die Votes
Published June 30, 2012

A nice Spring morning. Sunday morning to be exact. Very calm and peaceful in this small water front town. Our friends Polly sits in her favorite cafe overlooking the the marina. It’s a magnificent structure right on the edge of the water. Almost feels like the building itself is floating. There’s a big deck that hangs over the water, the morning sun has it at a comfortable temperature. Polly would sit out there but termites exist and so does water pollution. So she sits quietly in the corner by a window reading her favorite book about amazing places around the world. Why leave the comfort of her town when the book can be just as good as any place? This will be her 20th time reading it. Polly only owns a few books that she has read many times. She would go to the library but what if she loses the book or it gets damaged or she forgets her card? Such worries she doesn’t need in her life. Of course there is always the bookstore. But what if she doesn’t like the book and can’t return it? Or someone ripped a page out and she misses the reveal of a major secret? Polly is content with her limited selection.

Polly thinks that today has gone quite well so far. Sundays are usually her better days because, as her Grandmother once told her, God pays better attention to details of happiness and good in the world on Sundays. That saying makes it easier for Polly to have pleasant thoughts. Polly lifts her head to look out at the water when the waitress approaches with the menu and water. Polly declines the water because she makes it herself at home so she can be sure there isn’t any spit or rohypnol in it. Polly knows what she wants but has to make sure the prices is the same and ingredients haven’t changed. She doesn’t want to have come up short on the bill and end up on their “Do not serve” list. She can’t see one behind the counter, but she knows how it is in this town. Polly also checks to make sure the ingredients are organic and contain no peanuts. She doesn’t like peanuts in any of her food because she’s never had them before and doesn’t want to develop a peanut allergy. The waitress already has the answers ready.

“Price, $3.00, ingredients yes organic and no peanut. We never change.”
Polly smiles and places her order of wheat toast. This is what she gets everytime.  Plain wheat toast. The muffins look good but an article she read in 2005 stated that most muffin companies buy their flour from Idaho and that’s where 300 homicides occurred last year. The toast is a safe meal. Wheat is grown locally and is organic so there’s no pesticides that can slowly kill her. But what if the bugs lay eggs in the wheat and keep multiplying because they don’t use pesticides and then eat my insides? Polly pushes the plate away when the waitress places it on the table. The waitress rolls her eyes. How very ignorant she is for not understanding that bugs outlived the dinosaurs and will do everything in their power to rid the planet of humans. Her homemade water will sustain her until lunch when she can make her favorite homegrown lettuce sandwich. Homegrown is better, she feels, because then the dirty illegal immigrants can’t touch it.

There are a few customers enjoying their morning in the cafe. Mostly regulars like Polly and a lady at the counter with two children. Polly can tell she is struggling to order because her children are being difficult. Polly’s mind wonders; What if she asks me to watch them for her while she orders? What if one of them breaks their head on a table and I get yelled at? Polly avoids a panic attack when a handsome man walks in.
She’s never seen him before and observes as he takes his place behind the woman and her children. She can’t help but to look at him with quick glances. He looks around the cafe waiting patiently for the women to finish up. Polly likes patient guys because one time she had a boyfriend and he asked when they could “take it to the next level” but Polly knew he just wanted to rape her and then turn her into his prostitute. So she got a restraining order. Polly has a knack for having good judgment.
The man in the line looks like he would be the perfect mate. Brown hair, tall, symmetrical face, fast metabolism, no sign of chromosome defects, but that’s not always a guarantee. Polly doesn’t believe God hates her though so this man could be a potential mate.
Polly with her black hair, green eyes, and fair skin gingerly looks up at the man and puts on a slight cutesy smile as she watches him look down at the small children with a grin. And he’s good with kids too. But what if he REALLY likes kids and wants to touch them and play doctor with their own children? OH GOD! He’s a fucking pedophile! Stay calm. Don’t fret. Oh Jesus, he wants to rape those kids. “Lady! Watch out!”
Everyone looks at Polly confused. The lady with her kids ducks in case of an actual emergency and the man looks worried. Polly knows it would be best to exit the premise at this time. Her therapist warned her not to make out bursts in public because if they keep happening he will have to put her down. Polly quickly gathers her things and scrambles out the door passing the suspected pedophile on her way. Polly succuries towards her car which is parked the furthest she could find away from the handicap spot. She once heard this story about a guy who parked two spots away from the handicap spot and was ticketed $10,000 because three parking spots over on both sides of the handicap spot is also designated handicap parking.
Polly gets into her car and takes a few deep breaths then quickly locks the doors so government agents don’t snatch her up when she least expects it.
As she pulls out of the parking lot, Polly can see people on the sidewalks staring at her. They all think she’s crazy and selfish and unloveable. She has a face only a drunk mother could love, or so her mother once told her.
The street is littered with couples and their dogs taking their waterfront walks. Polly takes it slow so she doesn’t run anyone over. 25 Mph is the speed limit but Polly knows that any faster than 15 people will try to jump in front of her car and get her to pay them tons of money. All the poor people want her money, which is why Mitt Romney is her candidate.
Polly tries to rid her mind of that pedophies’ face by turning on some music. She accidentally switches the channel to rock and roll which gives her a fright, almost causing her to hit a parked car. Rock and roll made her best friend do drugs and have babies which were taken by the state. They will more than likely develop psychological problems and turn into serial killers.
Polly pulls onto her street. Many people live on it but not very close together. Polly likes that. Not too close to peep at her undressing and not too far to hear her screams if someone tries to kill her. She notices a car trailing behind. At first she thinks nothing of it, but if she lets her mind wonder the questions start to emerge. Who are they? What do they want? Where are they going? Do they want me? Are they planning to attack me? What if they want to talk, what do I say to them?
Polly starts in on a panic attack as she pulls into her driveway. She quickly gets out of her car and scrambles to take her keys out. As she opens the door the car that was behind her pulls into the drive. Polly’s worst nightmare is about to go down. She screams for her mom and dad, but there’s no answer. Where are they? Have the people in the car already taken them and are coming back to get me? Polly is in tears now. Snot running down her lips and bubbles forming as she gasps for air. Shaking, she makes her way to her hideout a small cubby behind a two way mirror. The perfect hiding spot she thought when she had her dad build it during her “spy kid” phase. As she ducks behind the mirror Polly chokes a little on her tears and snot but forces herself to hold her breath as the door handle shakes. Unlatches. Oh no, she forgot to lock it.

Who’s at the door!? Tune in next time for part 2!


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