Alex called me at about 11 a.m. this morning to tell me how his commute went. Evidently it did not go well.

He started by saying, “I came around a corner and there was some sort of creature in the road…”

My mind’s eye immediately conjured up this:

“So I swerved,” Alex continued…

Meanwhile, my mind’s eye was busy rejecting the Yeti as too unrealistic. But what kind of creature could cause Alex to swerve out of control?

I interrupted Alex to ask him if he was okay. It seemed like the considerate thing to ask at this point in the conversation. Dude’s fine.

My mind’s eye:

Of course, by this point, I was deadly curious to know what giant and exotic animal had NEARLY DESTROYED ALEX.

My mind’s eye: A deer. I really did imagine a deer. It seemed likely.

I was wrong. The “creature” that caused Alex to swerve?

I know. I lost a little respect for Alex too. I love squirrels as much as the next guy, probably more (probably A LOT more), but you don’t swerve for them. Duh.

Anywho, then Alex said that the car seems to be fine, except he blew out a tire on the curb or something. And he lost a little bit of dignity.

Here’s the thing about Alex and the reason he called though. I don’t think it was for my special brand of patented Stimey support. (Although I can’t imagine why not.) It was for this:

Motherfucking squirrels.