At work today, our department did a team-building exercise. Just for fun. Anyway, there are six of us and we all had to write part of a story. Simultaneously. So we didn't know what anyone else was writing. This is what I wrote:
Brianne and Martin got to know each other as the evening continued. Brianne told him how her mother had died in that terrible combining accident. “She was driving down Jasper Ave during rush-hour on her way home from work as a top-level finance wizard. A big truck with farm equipment drove past her and a combine fell on top of her. It was awful. I had to identify the body. She still had the John Deere logo embossed into her forehead.” Brianne looked up at Martin with big, sad eyes. Martin patted her hand and looked back sympathetically. “I know exactly how you feel, Brianne. My goldfish died so I know what it’s like to lose someone important to you. Do you want to go somewhere to get some food.” Brianne was grateful for his understanding, “OK,” she answered, “but nothing with peanuts; I’m deathly allergic.”
As Brianne was putting on her jacket her shirt lifted slightly and Martin noticed the key chain that she was wearing on her belt loop. The one she never took off. It was a John Deere key chain.
On their way out of the bowling alley, they dropped their shoes off at the shoe counter. The man behind the counter was smarmy. He looked Brianne up and down slowly and wiggled his toothpick suggestively. Martin stepped in front of her and declared, “I suggest you stop making the lady uncomfortable. She doesn’t like it.” The shoe guy answered as all smarmy characters do with a clichéd, “What are you going to do about it?” “I’m a black belt in seven different marshal arts is what I’m going to do about it. I said, leave the lady alone.” The smarmy shoe guy looked away and wiggled his toothpick to show that he would back down…but not because he was scared or anything.
It was a funner day than usual.