When this is all over, I will never turn down an invitation to a party. Not that I get many, but, hey, maybe that will change when everything is back to normal. Well, not normal. Back to different? The new normal, I guess.
When this is all over, I will never complain about having to go to work. Every day, I will get down on my knees and kiss that gray carpeting, as long as the industrial fibres do not irritate my lips too badly.
When this is all over, I will always wash my hands. With soap, too. And hot water, even though I find cold water more refreshing.
When this is all over, I will sometimes think, “You know what? Maybe it wasn’t so bad. After all, falling down into a really big hole and not being able to get out for what has been at least a few weeks on account of the even bigger rock that rolled down a hill and got stuck on top of what could have been my exit will actually make a good story to tell my grandchildren someday. Provided that all of the Mountain Dew I’ve been drinking down here doesn’t leave me sterile.”
When this is all over, I will remind myself that it was bad, falling down into a really big hole and not being able to get out for what has been at least a few weeks on account of the even bigger rock that rolled down a hill and got stuck on top of what could have been my exit.
When this is all over, I will take a pickaxe with me everywhere I go so that I can tunnel my way out of any similarly unfortunate situations.
When this is all over, I will probably never want to eat Doritos again, but if I do I will gladly lick my fingers and enjoy the flavor of the dirt-free orange dust.
When this is all over, I will watch where I am going while walking home from 7-Eleven at 3 A.M. And I won’t take any shortcuts. A different shortcut, at least.
When this is all over, I will request that AMC rerun the “Three Stooges” marathon I was stocking up for. It really is the least they can do, especially if they dug this hole. AMC is not one of my top suspects, but, with no solid leads as of yet, I am skeptical of everyone.
When this is all over, I will write the Rock a letter explaining my current situation and ask him for a shout-out or a signed head shot. The rock/Rock connection might not be that strong, but, honestly, I have been meaning to write him for a while anyway. I think he stole my idea to make a movie about the board game Jumanji.
When this is all over, I will also reach out to the band Hole and say, “You’re only happy when it rains? I’m only happy when I’m not trapped in a big hole that’s covered by a giant rock. . . . It’s a long story.” I do not expect to hear back from them, but if they do respond I hope they put me in touch with their label. Boy, have I got stories to tell. Yes, I am a musical artist, and, no, Hole does not sing that “Only Happy When It Rains” song, now that I think about it. Yeah, that was definitely Garbage. Whatever. Being down here has me feeling like garbage. So there is still a connection.
When this is all over, I will make “caught between a rock and a hard place to get out of” a phrase that people say. It could be shorthand for when you have only two options and both are bad. Like Mountain Dew or Doritos, after weeks of consuming only those two things.
When this is all over, I will need someone to catch me up on the latest trends and all the important news I missed out on. You know, which dances people are doing, what new Oreo flavor is out there, and which celebrities have gone viral. Maybe over a pitcher of beer that I sneaked into a batting cage? Sorry, sorry—let’s just say that I am eager to get back on the dating scene.
When this is all over, I will hug the people I love and not let go until I have slipped into their back pockets the mixtape I will record about all of this, titled “Under da Rock,” which I will release under my new rap name, Lil Hole Guy.
When this is all over, I will appreciate everything. Well, not big holes and giant rocks, but the little things. ♦
