The Plan

Joe looked up to see his old friend approach the table and said, “Dan” as much to confirm his identity as to ask how he knew?

Dan, looked disapprovingly at Joe and said, “Laura told me.”

Joe just put his head back in his hands. Dan said, “You screwed up big time my friend. This isn’t going to be fixed with a humble `I’m so sorry, it will never happen again and a box of chocolates or flowers.’” Dan reached out and lightly hit Joe on the side of the head to get his attention. “You need to admit that you are an asshole.” Dan emphasized the “you are an asshole” part by saying it slowly and clearly. “You can say that you’re sorry, just don’t say it won’t happen again. Because you know it will. You need to be honest with her and say you don’t want it to happen again, and that you need her help to make sure it doesn’t.”

Joe, slowly raised his head from his hands. It was like a revelation. He told Dan, “Yeah, I know what I am going to do. I’m going to tell her I’m sorry and that I’ll never do it again.”

Dan, dumfounded, shook his head and mouthed the word “No”.

“I’ll get her favorite gourmet chocolates and some flowers and go over there this afternoon.”

“That’s not what I said. Were you even listening?” Dan asked incredulously. He added, “Look, Laura and I are going camping for the weekend. We’ll be back Sunday night. Let’s chat then.”

Joe, ignoring what Dan was saying, now had a plan. It was a simple plan. Joe liked simple plans. They meant that there was a greater chance that he would remember them. He stood up and said “Thanks Dan!” then headed out of the coffee shop.

Goossens Handmade Chocolates, the town’s only gourmet chocolate shoppe, was just a few blocks away. Joe headed straight there. Fully awake now, he noticed an unusual number of people on the sidewalk, most of whom were just standing there talking with each other. But since it didn’t directly affect “the plan”, he continued on his way, turning off the main road to towards the confectioners.

Thankfully the shop was open. He asked for Allison’s favorite chocolate truffles, a specialty of Goossens. They were almost out, but they had just enough for one more carton. Joe considered this a sign of good luck, and he renewed his faith in the plan. The shopkeeper warned Joe to keep the truffles cool and that they would melt easily in this heat. He handed Joe a small branded bag with elegant handles, the kind one might save and use in future gift giving. Joe acknowledged the advice and stepped out of the store, heading towards the florist.

The florist was located inside the local supermarket, a short walk from the confectioners. Upon turning the corner, he was surprised to see the parking lot full of people, trucks and trailers. It was the start of a parade. It just dawned on him that today was July 4th, and the town always has its traditional July 4th parade, complete with cheesy floats, men driving little cars in fez’s, loud firetrucks and representatives from just about every youth organization in the county.

Joe needed to find another source for flowers since the supermarket would be closed while the town used the parking lot to stage the parade. Looking for a cool place to put the chocolates, he found a well shaded spot at the back of one of the floats. Taking out his phone he poked and pecked at the screen searching for any open florist within 30 miles. He wasn’t having much luck. He decided that the plan, as simple as it was, might have to change. He’d have to rely on the chocolates to pull their weight as well as the flower’s.

He turned to pick up the chocolates and to his great horror noticed that the float was no longer there. He scanned the lot and saw that it was already at the front of the queue on its way out to the parade route. Joe ran as fast as he could to catch up with the float, but just as he approached it, he was stopped by a police officer who was helping manage the traffic flow. The float turned out onto the road and started its way down the street.

Joe pleaded, “No, no.” symbolically reaching his hand out to the float, and his chocolates.

The police officer put one hand on Joe’s chest, the other resting on his gun and said, “Unless you are in the parade, you need to watch like everyone else.”

Joe, not wanting to get arrested, decided he would follow the float along the parade route, keeping a close eye on it and praying that the chocolates stayed cool and in the shade. The parade didn’t move quickly and it took about 2 hours before it came to an end at the high school parking lot. After a little explaining to the float owners, got his bag of chocolates back. Taking a deep breath and hoping for the best he carefully looked in the bag to see if the truffles were still intact. They were. Joe heaved a huge sigh of relief. The plan was intact. Joe started walking out of the parking lot towards Allison’s.

Joe commented, “Yeah, she seems really nice. Does your daughter take care of her?”

“Yes, she was so proud to be able to show her off while walking with the 4H club in the parade.” He continued, “I know this might be a bit much to ask of you, but I need to get my daughter to the urgent care center right away. We won’t be able to take Mrs. Robinson with us. Since you seem to be so good with her, and she likes you, would you mind walking her down to my brother’s garage. It’s not too far. He’ll be able to get Mrs. Robinson back home from there.”

“Where is the garage?” asked Joe.

“It’s just four blocks down the road on the right. Schaffer’s Autobody and Service.”

Joe knew the place, and agreed to walk Mrs. Robinson there. It was only a small change to the plan. After exchanging phone numbers, he wished the two luck and headed towards the garage with his new friend Mrs. Robinson.

Joe arrived at the garage and got a little concerned when he saw that it was closed. He knocked on the door, hoping the brother was still in there. No answer. Starting to panic, he decided to walk around to the back of the shop. The back of the shop was, as you would expect, crowded with partially dissembled cars, a trailer on blocks, some heavy lifting gear and a few shelves of old car parts. The entire yard reeked of fuel and grease.

Joe secured Mrs. Robinson’s leash to a hook, and placed the chocolates up out of her reach. He needed to call the owner to see what to do next. Joe started to worry when he noticed the battery was at 1%. Dialing the number, he put the phone to his ear and heard it ringing. If the universe was kind, he’d be able to make this one last call, before the phone died.

The universe was not kind.

The phone died just as the connection was made. Joe howled in frustration. Making matters worse he happened looked up where the bag of chocolates was sitting. They were in direct sunlight on the roof of a partially dissembled car. Quickly grabbing the bag, he inspected it, discovering to his horror that his box of 12 carefully crafted gourmet truffles arranged in a decorative egg carton had turned into a puddle of chocolate. Joe raised his head and screamed, “No!”

The scream was so loud and passionate that Mrs. Robinson let out a bleat, started shaking, went stiff and fell over onto her side. Joe witnessing what happened yelled to himself, “Oh my God. I killed Mrs. Robinson!” This was it, the last straw, the complete and total failure of the plan, the day and of his love. Mocking the universe he said aloud, “There is absolutely nothing else that could happen that could make this day worse.”

The universe took that as a challenge.

As Joe leaned back on the metal shelves, a broken man, he caused an open can of diesel fuel to spill on him. His shirt, pants and even shoes were drenched. In a panic, he stripped himself bare of all his clothes including underwear. He didn’t like the idea of being an attention seeking monk. He stepped back from anything that looked like it could make a spark. The back door to the garage was locked, and he dare not walk back out front into pedestrian traffic in the state he was in. Looking around the yard he noticed the trailer up on blocks. The logo on the side was that of the local hospital. Perhaps there were some medical scrubs or blankets inside that he could use.

Luckily the trailer wasn’t locked. Looking inside he saw banners and signs advertising STD Awareness Day. But no scrubs or clothes of any kind. A medium sized chest labeled “Condy” was tucked into a corner. Joe opened it up and found a pile of cloth and plastic. He pulled it out to see what it was. It was a giant full body penis costume, covered with a semi opaque simulated condom wrapper. Given the severe lack of options, Joe reluctantly put the costume on. The costume had an exposed area for the face, and holes for the arms. He put his wallet and keys, which survived the drenching, into a pouch that was sewn into the costume and which happened to be full of condoms samples. In the chest, with the costume, was what looked to be a pair of slippers. The slippers were huge, the size of beachballs, with tan felt exteriors punctuated by little strands of black yarn every few inches.

By the time Joe was dressed, Mrs. Robinson had miraculously come back to life. “Mrs. Robinson! You’re alive!” Relieved beyond belief, he walked over to her and stroked her head. After a few minutes he said, “Mrs. Robinson, this is not how I expected the day to play out. But I need to finish the plan, and that means that you’ll have to come with me until I can arrange to have you picked up.”

Joe grabbed his chocolate puddle bag, took the leash off the hook and headed out to the sidewalk. Walking in the costume was difficult. It was tight at the bottom, and the slippers had a string connecting them together. The experience was as much of a waddle as it was a walk. Joe looked down at the goat and said, “Mrs. Robinson, we need to make a stop first before we head to Allison’s. My head is splitting.”

Joe, with Mrs. Robinson in tow, walked into the pharmacy in full costume. The associate behind the counter called out, “Hey, you can’t bring that in here” pointing to the goat.

Joe responded firmly, “This is my ADA approved emotional support goat. Where’s the Advil?”

The associate, not knowing how to respond, just said, “Isle 4” pointing towards the back of the store.

Joe waddled back in that direction and grabbed the highest strength bottle of Advil he could find. On his way back to the checkout, and almost as an afterthought, he grabbed a package of adult men’s diapers. As a bonus, the end of the aisle had a basket with a bunch of long stem roses for sale. He grabbed a white colored rose. Arriving at the checkout and without any shame or emotion he slowly placed each item on the counter. The associate, looked over his shoulder to make sure the in-store video camera was getting all this, and processed his order.

Just outside, he opened the pack of diapers and with a little effort placed one on Mrs. Robinson. He poked a hole in the diaper to free her tail. It had the added effect of keeping the diaper in place. “There” he said adjusting the diaper. “Now we won’t have to worry about poop scooping on our way.”

“You’ll love Allison” Joe said to Mrs. Robinson. “She is the kindest, funniest and most attractive person I’ve ever known. She’s also real smart. I am sure she’ll warm up to you.”

Along the way Joe told Mrs. Robinson all about Allison; how they met, what she liked to do, her favorite foods. He reminisced about the fun times they had together, while ignoring the looks and stares of the other pedestrians. Joe was impressed at how quickly people walking towards him would give him plenty of leeway. Some would even just dart to the other side of the street before continuing on their way. He wasn’t sure if it was him or the goat, or possibly the fact that he was in casual conversation with the goat. The long walk and dialog with Mrs. Robinson turned out to be very therapeutic. She really was an emotional support goat.

This was a singular moment in all of human history. Never before have so many people arrived home and said, “Honey, you’ll never guess what I saw today” and get it so spectacularly correct.

Allison lived in a rented townhome at the edge of the town with her roommate Laura. Joe approached and rang the doorbell. Allison opened the door. To say that what she saw was a surprise was a gross understatement. For a long awkward moment, the two just looked at each other. Joe was physically, emotionally and intellectually drained. Nonetheless he started the conversation with, “I’m an asshole.”

Allison, visibly sizing up Joe and his costume, quipped, “you’re close”.

“Here, this is for you.” He handed her the bag.

Recognizing the branding on the bag she was secretly hopeful. Looking inside changed that to confused. Cautiously she sniffed the contents, then said, “It’s a puddle of chocolate.”

“Oh, and here.” Joe handed her the rose.

“A stick?” she said.

Joe, a little confused, only then realized the rose petals were missing. He glanced down disapprovingly at Mrs. Robinson who, as if on cue, stepped out from behind Joe and let out a bleat, as a lone rose petal fell from her mouth to the ground.

Having already reached maximum surprise level, Allison didn’t react when she saw the diapered goat come out from behind Joe. She just thought, “there’s a story here.”

Joe decided to go way off plan and said, “Allison I know I am an asshole, and definitely don’t deserve you. I’m a flawed man and all I can say is that I can’t promise I won’t screw up again, but I can promise that if you’ll help me, I can be a better person.”

The two just stood there at the doorway not saying a thing.

Thinking it was over, Joe eventually broke the silence by asking, “Can I borrow your phone charger? I need to arrange for Mrs. Robinson’s return. Then I’ll leave you alone.”

Allison replied with a half grin, saying, “Sure, come on in.” While he was walking through the door, she asked, “Does your costume come with any samples?”

Joe replied, “A whole pouch full”.

Allison said, “Good.”