"Resistance is useless," bellowed the guard, and then added, "You see, if I keep it up I can eventually get promoted to Senior Shouting Officer, and there aren't usually many vacancies for nonshouting and nonpushing-people-about officers, so I think I'd better stick to what I know."
They had now reached the airlock--a large circular steel hatchway of massive strength and weight let into the inner skin of the craft. The guard operated a control and the hatchway swung smoothly open.
"But thanks for taking an interest," said the Vogon guard. "Bye now." He flung Ford and Arthur through the hatchway into the small chamber within. Arthur lay panting for breath. Ford scrambled round and flung his shoulder uselessly against the reclosing hatchway.
Things are not turning out the way Ford had planned. He tried to talk the Vogon into renouncing his Vogon shouting ways and seeking a more meaningful existence. It didn't work. The guard has his eyes on a different prize--a promotion and more shouting. That's what Vogonity is all about.
Like Ford, my afternoon/evening has not turned out the way I expected. After work, I sat down for an interview at my local public radio station. I talked for about an hour about poetry and writing and the Upper Peninsula and being Poet Laureate. I planned on this interview.
Then I drove home and started grading student papers. I planned on this, as well. I knew I had an evening of red ink ahead of me when I pulled into the driveway. It is one of those diabolical deals teachers have to make in order to be able to enter a classroom.
Then, as I was grading, I got tired. Really tired. I only got around four hours of sleep last night. So, I decided to take a short nap. Half an hour at the most. That wasn't planned. As I was crawling under the covers, the telephone rang. It was my wife, sounding frantic, telling me that her car battery was dead. She needed me to come with my jumper cables. Not planned.
Well, we tried to jump her car. After few sparks, everything on her car went dead. Not planned. We called for a tow truck. Really not planned. Now, my wife's car is sitting at a garage, waiting to have its battery replaced at some point tomorrow. (I'm hoping that it's just her battery. If it's anything more serious, we're in serious trouble.) Really, really not planned.
As you can tell, a Vogon airlock is sounding pretty good to me at the moment. Plus, I still have a ton of grading to do.
Saint Marty should have just stayed in bed this morning, with the covers over his head.
No comments:
Post a Comment