Pineapple Jam.
There was no mistaking it. It looked, smelt, and felt like pineapple jam; ergo, it must be pineapple jam. Adam would have considered the taste test to confirm beyond doubt but the fact that it had just recently oozed out of his phone's battery seemed to deter him somewhat. He didn't know much behind the operation of cell phones but was relatively confident that in no stage of the phones operation was jam involved, much less pineapple jam; so, understandably, this revelation threw him off from what was otherwise a very unpleasant morning.
He woke up an hour too late for work and rushed through his morning routine, constantly envisioning fantastic excuses to console his ever troubled employer for his less than impressive performance when it came to the field of punctuality. It wasn't until he left the house and walked the 500 yards to the bus stand, however, that he realized it was a Sunday and he'd forgotten to take his keys. After a perceivably frustrating-nerve wracking-lock shattering-lock refixing-locksmith paying 2 hours, Adam was back where he'd started - visibly older yet strangely visibly stupid and careless at the same time. It was only then that he noticed a faint aroma coming from his left hand side pant pocket. This in turn led to the aforementioned series of events, which Adam now, rather cryptically, refers to as The Incident, which, incidentally, was a fascinating name for a record he thought. He made a note to tell his friend Steven - nice guy, just very eccentric and, rather forcefully to Adams mind, channelling John Lennon. He seemed to always be fascinated by the obscure and this would certainly give him a kick.
Discarding this line of thought as ridiculous, Adam now focussed on damage control. He'd make a trip later down to the store to have this looked into. Not that it would do any good; Adam considered the store mechanic beneath his contempt, but there was no harm getting it looked into either. Besides the only real reason he went to that particular store was because he saw an interesting young woman buying a phone there about a year ago that he'd only recently summoned the courage to talk to. He'd not seen her since but he remained hopeful, if not desperate.
At that point, life seemed shallow, gloomy and hopeless; a view enhanced perhaps by the bright cheerful weather outside. He needed to break free from this monotonous bizarre reality he was reluctantly thrown into day in and day out. He needed a change, but wasn’t sure where to begin. It was at this point that he became aware of a letter that had been lying discreetly at the side of the door; not screaming for attention but commanded a great deal when it did receive it, much like an unattended bag at an airport. Adams instant reaction was to assume that it was a bill of some sort, not a beak or weapon of any sort, but more a quittance to some needless transaction that seemed vital at them time but would lose meaning a week into existence. His first reaction was to ignore it; seconds later he was reaching to pick it up and tear its head off. It was, rather disappointingly, a bill – for television he'd stopped watching months ago. Apparently asking to have the service removed translated into adding some special bonus pack to the already hefty sum. He threw it away in disgust and immediately focussed his attention to the second letter that lay even more discreetly behind the first. It read.
“Are you looking for a change? Does life seem shallow, gloomy and hopeless? Do you need a break from your monotonous bizarre reality that you’re reluctantly thrown into day in and day out? Looking for the perfect place to start? Why don’t you give us a visit? We guarantee you won’t regret it.
RRR - Rescind. Repeal. Recall”
A rather corny way to advertise but given the stark nature of the letter’s clairvoyance, Adam decided it would be silly not to find out what this was all about. Besides the address was only a short distance away from the mobile mart so it wasn’t too out of the way either. Soon enough he made his way back to the bus stop for the second time, pausing only once to rush back inside before the door closed to get his keys.
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Disclaimer - All participating characters in this story, including John Lennon, are completely fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, dead or alive, is purely coincidental but not regretted. Events are not subject to this disclaimer- they are completely intentional.
Well this was pretty shit. Just thought I'll vomit this at the lot of you. Let me know how it felt. Cheers :)