"Welcome Aboard," or What's the Mat-ter?

My friend Amiee* works at a hotel about two blocks away from the church that I am a part of. She works Sundays. As such, I sometimes hang out with her after church. This was the case this Sunday. We sat there drinking cucumber water** and laughing, catching up on life and playing mancala. Suddenly we heard a strange sound in the street.

It reminded me of a street sweeper, though it was not moving. I've never seen a street sweeper park and continue sweeping, so this was probably not what it actually was. Eventually Amiee went to check what this strange noise was. I don't know why it sounded this way, because it was a short tour bus. Said tour bus rolled out the red carpet, which in this case was a mat. People boarded the bus, and they pulled out.

Shortly after they pulled out, Amiee went back over to the front desk to answer the phone. Suddenly she started laughing. "They left their mat!" she said.

Down the stairs I go, to street level. Back up the stairs I come, mat in hand. "Welcome Aboard," is emblazoned on the mat. The mat had been abandoned, but now it had a new owner. What will I do with this mat? I don't know. But it's going to be awesome.

I can't put this mat in front of my door for two reasons. Firstly, I already have a door mat. Having a second would require me to figure out what to do with the first. I don't have two doors, so I have no use for a second mat. Secondly, it's gigantic. I would need a double door to use this. I have no use for this mat. I should take a picture with it, then take it back down.

Suddenly I hear the street sweeper again. I hear yelling. "The mat's gone! Does anybody know what happened to my mat? I can't believe they (^&*ing forgot the mat!"

"He's going to get shot if he keeps that up," Amiee says. I grab the mat and run downstairs. "What are you going to tell him? That you wanted it, but he can have it back?"

I get to the bottom and hand him the mat as he is about to leave. "Um, I think you forgot this. We picked it up because we didn't want anyone to steal it. You need to be careful with things in this part of town."

"You're a good person," he says to me. "You're a good person, and you will be repaid for this. Thank you."

I felt so bad. He has no idea how wrong he is. None of us are good, and we are not repaid in some cosmic karmic balance system, thankfully. Further, I wasn't even acting magnanimously toward him, no matter what I told him.

I still have one doormat. I think it says "Wipe Your Paws," or something like that, though I haven't really looked at it in a long time. It's my roommate's. It sits in front of our only door. When you cross our threshold, you are coming in, not aboard, through a single door. And that's the way it should be.

*I wish Amiee had a blog I could link to from here. She has the most amazing stories about her job, and they are nowhere recorded. Blog, Amiee.
**For some reason, the water in the dispenser there has cucumbers in it. I suppose it adds something good for you to the water. It tastes a bit unusual, but I like it. I always feel trendy when I drink it.

My friend Amiee* works at a hotel about two blocks away from the church that I am a part of. She works Sundays. As such, I sometimes hang out with her after church. This was the case this Sunday. We sat there drinking cucumber water** and laughing, catching up on life and playing mancala. Suddenly we heard a strange sound in the street.

It reminded me of a street sweeper, though it was not moving. I've never seen a street sweeper park and continue sweeping, so this was probably not what it actually was. Eventually Amiee went to check what this strange noise was. I don't know why it sounded this way, because it was a short tour bus. Said tour bus rolled out the red carpet, which in this case was a mat. People boarded the bus, and they pulled out.

Shortly after they pulled out, Amiee went back over to the front desk to answer the phone. Suddenly she started laughing. "They left their mat!" she said.

Down the stairs I go, to street level. Back up the stairs I come, mat in hand. "Welcome Aboard," is emblazoned on the mat. The mat had been abandoned, but now it had a new owner. What will I do with this mat? I don't know. But it's going to be awesome.

I can't put this mat in front of my door for two reasons. Firstly, I already have a door mat. Having a second would require me to figure out what to do with the first. I don't have two doors, so I have no use for a second mat. Secondly, it's gigantic. I would need a double door to use this. I have no use for this mat. I should take a picture with it, then take it back down.

Suddenly I hear the street sweeper again. I hear yelling. "The mat's gone! Does anybody know what happened to my mat? I can't believe they (^&*ing forgot the mat!"

"He's going to get shot if he keeps that up," Amiee says. I grab the mat and run downstairs. "What are you going to tell him? That you wanted it, but he can have it back?"

I get to the bottom and hand him the mat as he is about to leave. "Um, I think you forgot this. We picked it up because we didn't want anyone to steal it. You need to be careful with things in this part of town."

"You're a good person," he says to me. "You're a good person, and you will be repaid for this. Thank you."

I felt so bad. He has no idea how wrong he is. None of us are good, and we are not repaid in some cosmic karmic balance system, thankfully. Further, I wasn't even acting magnanimously toward him, no matter what I told him.

I still have one doormat. I think it says "Wipe Your Paws," or something like that, though I haven't really looked at it in a long time. It's my roommate's. It sits in front of our only door. When you cross our threshold, you are coming in, not aboard, through a single door. And that's the way it should be.

*I wish Amiee had a blog I could link to from here. She has the most amazing stories about her job, and they are nowhere recorded. Blog, Amiee.
**For some reason, the water in the dispenser there has cucumbers in it. I suppose it adds something good for you to the water. It tastes a bit unusual, but I like it. I always feel trendy when I drink it.

"Welcome Aboard," or What's the Mat-ter?