I met Jimothy in a gas station bathroom. I’d run in to evacuate my bowels from the crimes TacoBell had committed within me. The gas station attendant at the front pointed to the back of his establishment. My tense face, stationary sprinting, and general panic probably tipped him off. It wasn’t his first rodeo.
The first few moments on the porcelain throne were sublime. TacoBell didn’t win. I did. I DID. Screw those bastards. My eyes were closed and I was focussed. I hummed a hymn to potentially soothe the gods that were punishing me through triple-loaded cheesy tacos. I kept my eyes closed for a few minutes when I felt a soft fuzzed hand on my thigh.
“Hi, I’m Jimothy!” said a soft orange fella in a slightly high-pitched voice, as I shot open my eyes.
“What’s up…man,” I responded surprisingly calmly.
“You’re the most focussed person I’ve seen today,” said Jimothy, forcing his face into a weird smile.
“You’ve been here long?!”
“All day!”
“All day?!”
“Yes sir slash ma’am.”
Despite Jimothy’s social transgressions, he obviously wasn’t from around here. He had big orb-like eyes. He didn’t have any ears but his head was really round. His body was slim but he was orange and fuzzy, contrasting starkly to his grey face. He was certifiably cuddly. He had two arms on each side of his body. No matter what I did, he beamed at me. We were eye level as I continued to sit.
“Where are you from?” I asked.
“Far away! I got lost. I’m just waiting around here. That’s the rules,” he responded matter-of-factly. He maintained unblinking eye contact and a radiant smile.
“Fair enough,” I said, grabbing some toilet paper.
“You’re grabbing less toilet paper than the others,” said Jimothy.
“Really?”
“Other people grabbed a few squares. You only have two,” he said. “I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks, Jimothy.”
“Mustn’t thank. Here to help.”
If this was any other person, I would’ve launched out a long time ago, but he looked so friendly. He made me relaxed and comfortable. I finished with the toilet paper and Jimothy cheered loudly when I zipped up my pants and walked to the sink.
“What’s this?” asked Jimothy, waddling beside me.
“Uh, the sink—” I explained pointing to the tap, “water comes out of this.”
“Oh. Nobody’s used that yet.”
Jimothy walked up to the countertop. His eyes could barely see over. He watched with intensity as I washed my hands with soap. He did a spin when the soap foamed.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but has nobody freaked out after seeing you?” I asked quickly.
“I’ve just been watching. You’re the first one to see me,” he said.
“Why me?” I questioned, grabbing some hand towels out of the dispenser.
Jimothy shrugged as if this was the stupidest question he’d ever heard.
“How’d you get your name anyway, Jimothy?”
He looked up at me as if this was the second most stupid question he’d heard today. “The first person I saw in the gas station was named Jim. The next person was Timothy.”
Jimothy didn’t seem to care all too much about the goings on in his situation. For all I knew he was stuck on a planet light years away from home, yet he looked as happy as could be.
“Well, I need to get going,” I told him.
“Alright, let’s go!” he said, looking at me and then back to the bathroom door.
“I don’t think I should take you with me,” I said apologetically.
“Why not?” he said, a stern expression dawning on his face for the first time.
“Uh—where do I start…”
“I don’t know. You tell me.”
“What?”
“You told me you don’t know where to start.”
“Yeah, but that’s a figure-of-speech.”
“A what?”
“Ugh. Nevermind, let’s go.”
I opened the bathroom door and when I looked back Jimothy was gone. I stopped and blinked hard a couple times. Empty. He’s probably hiding like he was earlier, I told myself. I walked out of the gas station and looked around. Jimothy wasn’t anywhere in sight. There were some picnic tables around back where it would be harder to be seen. Maybe he was waiting for me to go there. I made my way to the picnic tables and sat down. I waited for a few minutes.
“Boo!” Jimothy cried from beneath the table.
“You got me…you got me…” I laughed, his fuzzy paws on my knees tickled.
Jimothy looked up at me and hugged my calf.
“Aw, thanks Jimothy,” I said, patting his head awkwardly.
“Your kind of people like hugs,” he said thoughtfully, prying himself up to sit beside me.
“My people. What does that mean?” I asked pointedly.
Jimothy looked nervous for a second, as if he had just made a mistake. He leaned closer to me and patted my side, “there there….there there…”
I looked at him. He looked up at me pleadingly and then back down to his hand that continued to pat my side. He wasn’t actually feeling sorry. It was an act because I heard him mutter, “instructions said this’d work…apologize and look sad.”
His hand tired out after a few minutes. Ten silent minutes passed. I wanted to see if he’d start talking. I grabbed my phone out of my pocket to reply to some texts.
Jimothy peered over and started laughing hysterically.
“Wha—what’s going on?” I asked.
“Nothing, nothing. Pocket abacus,” he laughed hard to himself.
Jimothy had spunk but he was sweet. I’d always dreamed of meeting an alien and this was exactly how I’d imagined it. People always doom-and-gloomed about aliens. I’d always thought they would be friendly. Jimothy was everything that I’d dreamed of. We giggled for another thirty minutes. I explained the concept of hiking to him as I pointed to the mountains in the distance. He was stupefied. He also didn’t understand why our spaceships had four wheels and moved on the ground.
The sun was soaring now. I felt warm and I asked him if he wanted anything to drink. He nodded, “I’ll try what you like.”
I went into the store and grabbed two cold Sprites. I handed a bottle to Jimothy and he held it tightly in his two hands.
“Careful, it’s fizzy,” I warned him.
“Fizzy…” he said, clearly enjoying the sound of the word.
I opened the bottle for him and he took a sip. His eyes widened more, which I didn’t know was possible. He chugged half the bottle into his little body. I yanked the bottle out of his hands to slow him down.
“It’s yum,” he said excitedly.
“I know,” I smiled back.
I asked him to cool down for a few minutes, before giving him the bottle back. He drank slower this time.
“I’ve had a fun day,” he said quietly.
“Me too.”
We sat on the bench for another fifteen minutes. The sun fell right on my face and my whole body felt snug.
My head suddenly jolted from a nap I hadn’t planned on. I couldn’t feel Jimothy’s fuzzy head on my arm anymore. I looked around yawning. Come to think of it, the whole last hour had been crazy. I took a couple deep breaths and looked under the bench. Nothing. It had felt so real. I couldn’t find a second Sprite bottle either. I gathered myself and went back to my car. I was disappointed. It was one of those dreams that you wish could’ve been real. I drove back home, running through what had happened over and over. Could it have been real? No way, I convinced myself. People wouldn’t believe me even if it had happened.
The drive back home was quiet. The roads weren’t busy. It was the laid back driving that I enjoyed. Looking out at the mountains, I felt relaxed. I’d been more worked up than I’d realized. By the time I took the last turn to my house, I was planning what I’d make for dinner that night.
I slammed on the brakes as I rounded the corner.
There were giant plastic-wrapped crates completely blocking my garage. I drove slowly and parked on the driveway in front of them. I’d ordered some Amazon floss but surely they wouldn’t deliver it like this.
I stayed in my car to check my emails; maybe someone had sent me an explanation for this delivery. I started to get annoyed. The day had already been a whirlwind. I was tired and didn’t have the energy to deal with this issue. Who do you even call to pick up eight large crates? How much would this cost to clean up?
I took some deep breaths and calmed down the best I could. I’ll get through this, I told myself. I got out of the car to go inside. Whatever the fix for this was, I could figure it out while watching TV and calling some friends. Friday night could end up being alright.
As I made my way to the front door, I noticed that the crates had small trails of water coming out of them. This definitely wasn’t floss. I walked to the wrapped up boxes. As I got closer, I noticed that one of the crates was slightly propped open. Might as well take a look, I muttered as I carefully lifted the wooden lid, trying to avoid splinters.
I looked inside and did a double take. I couldn’t stop smiling.
The crates were full of ice-cold Sprites.
Love your shit, Zero 🍀
Pocket abacus 😂😂😂 Someone call Tim Cook. Hoping there is a sequel to your rendezvous with Jimothy.