The Chameleon

The Stallion

Last week, I went out and picked up a few of those alarm clocks.

You know, the ones that require you to shoot a pop-up target when they go off.

My girlfriend, Lindsey, strategically places them around the bedroom because I enjoy a good challenge. Also, I like to stay sharp for work; I don't get to exercise my firearm very often.

Most mornings, I patiently lay in bed with the plastic guns beside me and wait for the alarms to go off. It's quite exhilarating.

Today (Monday), I was up before the alarms, waiting patiently for the targets to appear. The 7:05am alarm went off on the dresser beside the bathroom. I sat up abruptly.

BANG!

I laid back down and waited for the next one. 7:06am went off. I shot back up and looked around the room for it. It was perched on the trim above the door.

BANG!

The final 7:07am alarm popped up on the trunk at the end of the bed.

BANG!

After sniping all 3 of them, I rolled out of bed with a stupid grin on my face. I slid into my slippers and galloped down the stairs to join Lindsey on the porch for our morning ritual. She lit a cigarette and passed it to me, then she lit one for herself. I took a puff and gave her a kiss on the cheek. We both she looked across the street.

Gregory Matthews, our neighbor, scrambled out of his house at 7:15am with his briefcase and his stupid coffee cup that boasts a picture of a stallion on it. Both Lindsey and I had the same unspoken thought- "here we go".

Greg is somehow late for work every day. Even if he is on time, something usually happens to ensure he stays a few minutes behind schedule. We take great pleasure in witnessing the misfortune of his "morning routine". Last week, he started getting into the habit of forgetfully placing his coffee cup on the roof of his car and driving away without noticing.

He fumbled and flipped his keys around, trying to slither them into the keyhole of his '98 Volvo S70. "A classic" as he liked to call it. He awkwardly hugged his briefcase and held the stallion cup in his mouth.

"Oh you poor thing", Lindsey said, smiling and inhaling deeply.

He finally managed to weasel into the car, throwing his briefcase on the passenger seat and dropping the stallion into the cup holder.

The paper boy was a few doors down riding his bike at a loafty speed, lobbing newspapers at each house he passed.

His aim was pathetic.

He was wearing ear buds and rapidly approaching Greg's house. Greg began reversing out of the driveway.

"Oh no," Lindsey gasped. She sported a concerned yet excited expression on her face.

"Oh yes!" I chanted as I rose to my feet in anticipation.

The paper boy looked down to reach into his bag for another paper. Greg took a swig of his coffee. BANG! The kid collided right into the side of Greg's car and collapsed on the spot. Greg slammed on the brakes, spilling his coffee all over the dashboard. He got out and darted around the car to see what happened. He shouted louder and louder, "Oh my god. Oh my GOD. OH. MY. GOD!" He wore coffee all over his freshly pressed white dress shirt.

The paper boy was down on the ground with his limbs pretzeled around his bike. I don't think I have ever heard Lindsey laugh so hard, she was snorting. I flicked my cigarette into the shrubs and ran across the street while Lindsey helplessly cackled on the porch.

"I didn't even see him coming," said Greg in a frantic state.

"Me neither," I told him.

We unraveled the paper boy from his bike. He was crying like a 6-year old girl on her first day of school, with minor cuts and bruises.

"I'll walk him home," Greg volunteered.

"No," I corrected him. "You'll finish his paper route, I'll take him home."

Greg picked up the bag of papers and began walking. I walked the other way with the boy, listening to Greg call his boss on his bluetooth headset. "I am running a bit late today, I got into a minor accident. I'm sorry. I'll get there as soon as possible."

Greg was a junior accountant at some trendy office in the downtown core. He loved it for reasons I will never understand.

His life was an everyday scramble, but he always managed to see the light at the end of the tunnel. He was a restaurant fanatic and always recommended new lunch places for Lindsey and I to dine at. "Have you guys been to 'Le Canard Glissante?' Their foie gras is to die for!"