So a few weeks ago, my mom woke me up to ask where the UPS store is. (Yes, I live with my parents. Despite my two college degrees, I have been underemployed since graduation and am now unemployed. Not exactly a financially rewarding experience.) Now, my mom should know better than to ask me questions when I’m half asleep. I’m not a morning person, or someone who wakes up and knows what the fuck is going on instantly. So my mom’s asking directions to the UPS store and I’m trying to figure out what year it is and what planet I’m on.
So just to get her to stop talking, I ask, “Why?”
And she says, “I need to ship some shit.”
Now, my mom doesn’t usually talk like that. I usually talk like that. So I think, OMG, my mom is trying to be cool and talk like a Millennial, that’s so hilarious. But she’s still asking me for directions, like she can’t ask her phone instead, and I really just want to go back to sleep.
To be fair, my mom has been asking me for directions since I was three and in a car seat. She literally can’t find her way out of a paper bag. I, on the other hand, have never been lost in my life and have never consulted a GPS. When I need to find something, I put the address in Google, look at the map, and then I know how to find it. I don’t know why so many other people can’t do that.
So anyway, I wake up enough to tell her I think there’s still one by Radio Shack although I haven’t been there in a while, and how to get there, and she finally goes away and I go back to sleep.
Later that day, she tells me that yes, the UPS store is still by Radio Shack and she found it with no problem. At that point, I’ve had some caffeine and I’m fully conscious, so I ask her, “What did you have to ship?”
“I told you, I had to ship some shit.”
“Okay…but specifically, what did you have to ship?”
She looks at me like I’m stupid. “I told you, my shit. My doctor said I don’t need a colonoscopy if I just send my shit to this lab to be analyzed.”
I really should not have assumed she was trying to be cool and talk like a Millennial.
I’m also imagining what would happen if the UPS driver left the box outside the lab, and a lighter dropped out of someone’s pocket and set the thing on fire…
W. T. Fallon is the author of Fail to the Chief, a political satire in which the presidential election is carried out via reality show, which is almost as bizarre and far-fetched as our current reality.