Daniel Murphy, attorney at the firm Martin, Murphy & Chang, had certainly heard it enough times since he had graduated out of Law School six months ago. But this was probably the first time hearing it with his hands cuffed behind his back and his cheek pressed to the hood of his Honda Accord.
“Guess you might call this a bad case of Murphy’s Law, huh?”, said the police officer as he grabbed Daniel’s linked arms and jerked him upright. Daniel was prodded towards the awaiting police cruiser, the blue and red lights alternating frantically. The rear passenger door was opened and the officer pressed down on Daniel’s head as he was placed in the back seat.
The door slammed shut and it was only then, as his pantsless rear end absorbed the shock of the cool leather back seat, that Daniel was able to reflect on the series of astronimically unfortunate events that led to his current escort to the police station.
*17 MINUTES AND 34 SECONDS EARLIER
Oh crap. Oh Crap! Oh CRAP! CRAP! CRAP!
A stream of curses and unlikely-to-be-answered prayers raced through Daniel Murphy’s mind as he burst out of the doors of the pet store he had just minutes ago entered. The plan was simply to walk in there, get the first goldfish that could be scooped up out of its tank, pay $3.17, and drive back to the office in time for the conference call at 2pm. Easy Peasy.
The Plan, however, crashed and burned into the side of a mountain and then fell into a volcano just for good measure. Daniel’s plan started to go awry as he made the first few strides towards the fish tanks. A wayward Pomeranian, freshly cut from its grooming, bolted from seemingly nowhere and ran directly in the path of his deftly shined Italian leather shoe. Daniel’s right foot, happily headed to it’s place in stride veered sharply off course, taking an unexpected detour directly into the leg of a six-foot tall display filled with assorted loose dog treats.
Daniel stumbled forward, lost his footing and swan dived onto the tiled floor. At the same time, the treats display tumbled down like a felled oak tree and crashed down on top of him, biscuits and other canine delicacies cascading over him. The humiliation, however, was just beginning.
As Daniel began to rise from underneath his cocoon of treats, he felt a slight nip at the leg of his trousers. He lifted his head up and craned his neck just enough to see the Pomeranian that caused his literal downfall aggressively attacking the mound of treats by his feet.
Great, I just had these pants tailored.
He attempted to shake the dog (Betty, according to the nametag; Gr-ru-Ka in Pomeranian) loose from his pants but unfortunately a fish-shaped biscuit had become lodged underneath Daniel’s leg. And there is nothing in the world more delicious to Betty than a fish-shaped biscuit. So Betty latched on and sunk 10 sharp teeth into Daniel’s calf. After letting out a high pitched squeal, sharp enough to send the parakeets into a frenzy, Daniel jumped up and in a fashion that would make David Beckham proud, reflexively kicked Betty 20 yards forward…into the waiting arms of the 6’8″ bald African American gentleman wearing a t-shirt with the writing: Joe & Betty 4-Ever accompanied by a picture of Joe planting a kiss on Betty’s black snout.
“Oh, man… um… Joe? I’m so sorry Joe. I… I didn’t mean to kick.. ya know?” Daniel continued stammering as Joe calmly placed Betty down on the ground in front of him. Joe’s nostrils flared slightly, then he raised his arm, pointed directly at Daniel’s face, and without unlocking his stare into the eyes of the man who punted his beloved simply said: “Get him, Betty.”
Daniel swore the mutt gave him an almost diabolical smirk as she bared her sharp fangs and let out 3 high-pitched yips. Then as fast as lightning, she bolted straight for Daniel, who was just in the process of hastily retreating back out the store. Daniel ran, about the right amount of speed when chased by a ravenous Pomeranian with an appetite for his tender vittles. He had reached the automated doors which had slid open for him just as Betty made one final leap and latched on to his pants… this time with a hold on Daniel’s left rear end. With a cry of pain, he fell to the ground and Betty continued to work his way through the fabric of his pants. He also heard the stomp, stomp, stomp of the shoes of the impossibly huge Pomeranian lover walking towards them, with obvious intent in his eyes to add to Daniel’s misery.
Daniel had to make a decision. It wasn’t going to be pretty, but he was damned if he was going to be pummeled by these two today. So he quickly worked off his shoes and leaped up, (luckily, he never wore shoes with laces) Betty dangling from the elastic waistband of his underpants, and slipped out of his tailored pants and Scooby Doo boxers faster than Michael Jordan’s ripping off his warmup pants before a game. With his newfound freedom, and the cool wind blowing over the parts God gave him, Daniel ran straight for his car. As he reached the door, his heart skipped 3.5 beats when he patted the side of his leg looking for his keys and felt a hairy, bare thigh. Freaking out, he looked up and saw Joe slowly approaching his location, Betty nestled in his arm like a fur covered rocket launcher.
Daniel’s bladder was just about to fail him when he lifted his arms to scream for someone to rescue him (not likely) when he heard the heavenly sound of his keys jingling in his coat pocket. The first bit of good luck during this ordeal, he whipped them out and in a flash got into his car and locked the doors just as Joe slapped a meaty palm against his window. Angry, loud barking followed (from both Joe and Betty) as Daniel’s trembling hands guided the keys toward the ignition. After 3 misses, and spittle covering half of his driver side window, his key found his way in. Quickly, he turned the key, the Honda roared to life and he slammed the shift into reverse and blindly shot out of his parking space..
…directly into the front of a passing K-9 Unit Police van. The sickening crunching sound of metal and agitated German Sheppards filled the air and Daniel’s day from Hell officially entered Poopsville. Population: Daniel.
The ride to the police station was uneventful, though he was pretty sure trying to explain to his bosses that getting arrested for reckless driving, endangering a police officer, and canine assault probably would make up for that. Murphy’s Law…, he thought, what a bitch.
My first thought when I woke up this morning: “Damn! I forgot to finish my DP post…” Seriously.