Chester, The Wonderful

Chester woke up and really felt good. Before leaving the apartment for work he smiled in the mirror and patted himself on the back. “Some days are just better than others. Some days I’m just better than me. Some days you’re just so full of yourself you want to spoon some of yourself out to others. Some days there is just not enough of me to go around. I‘m going to spread a little of me around.”

On leaving the apartment Chester decided to walk rather than take the bus.

“Look, a panhandler,” he said to himself.

“Isn’t this a wonderful day,” Chester said.

“Is it one dollar wonderful or five dollar wonderful?” The panhandler said.

“It’s more than that, it’s hope. Things will be wonderful for you the rest of the day.” Chester said.

“Huh?” The panhandler said.

“You have met wonderful me and I give you hope,” Chester said.

“I’d setter for a quarter,” the panhandler said.

Chester walked on.

“Ah, my favorite coffee shop and my favorite barista,” Chester said.

“The unusual, my dear,” Chester said to the barista. “With a quad-shot, if you don’t mind. And here’s a dime for the tip jar.”

“Wow, what got into you today?” The barista said.

“I’m happy to be me, so I want to give as much of me as I can to everybody!” Chester said.

“At a dime a crack of much of you is left?” The barista said.

“Plenty, plenty. A dime of me is better than a dollar of anybody else,” Chester said.

He walked couple of blocks to a busy intersection.

“There’s an old lady trying to make it across the street,” Chester said. “Don’t worry, Ma’am, I’m here to save the day. I’ll hold traffic if need be.”

“Bless you, sonny,” the old lady said.

“Now, straighten up, don’s slouch, take nice long strides; embrace life!” Chester said.

“Is your clock winding down?” The old lady said.

“Remember, age is just a number,” Chester said.

“I’m going to see Maggie at the laundry,” Chester said.

“Are my shirts ready?”

“No, not until tomorrow,” Maggie said.

“I knew that,” Chester said. “I just wanted to come in and tell you life confined to a wheelchair is not all that bad, at least you have your life.”

“I appreciate that, sir,” Maggie forced a smile. “There’s a gun store owner, two doors down, has a leg missing. He’d probably like to here from you.”

“Maybe next time. I’ve got to get to work.”

Chester looked at his watch and noticed he was running late. He hoped on the bus. It traveled a couple of blocks and stopped.

“There’s a train on the track,” Chester said. “What an opportunity.”

He stood at the front of the bus. “Hey everybody! Let’s sing a song! Anybody know High Hopes? Just join in on the chorus, ‘Cause he’s got high hopes, he’s got high hopes, he’s got high apple pie in the sky hopes.’ Look! The train is moving. Aren’t you all glad I came along.”

Finally Chester arrived at work.

“Good morning, Mr. Bromwell. May I say it is a pleasure working here and especially having you as my boss. I like your management style, decisive.”

“Chester, you‘re late.”

“Yes, Mr. Bromwell, I know.”

“You’re fired.”

Chester walked out on the street and screamed. “Ahhhhhhhhh! This is the worst day of my life. I should have known, it started out too good.”

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