#183 Why I Didn’t Make it to Coney Island

by C.Z. Sposto

A year ago, I felt my mind was shrouded by depression. My therapist advised me to go and seek out upbeat folks. Ergo, I joined The Positive Thinkers Club. There I was introduced to buoyant, smiling members who bragged of making lemonade from lemons in their lives. They took down my address.

And then before I knew it, my doorbell started ringing with smiling new acquaintances who’d come to borrow sugar to make their lemonade.

Of course, I was obliging—It helped me to be helpful. And soon my house was overrun by people popping in, to leave with sucrose crystals in tidy zip-lock bags all hours, night and day. I never considered how this looked.

The Positive Thinkers picnic was set for Coney Island. Thanks to suspicious neighbors, I never made it there. After the police raid, I found myself in handcuffs, my Tupperware containers were sent on to the lab.

In time, I was released, thanks to a good lawyer. My story made the papers, much to my chagrin. I took away some wisdom about forced smiles and sugar. I now seek friends who can accept life’s lemons as they are.

4 comments:

JRVogt said...

Got a chuckle out of me.

msc said...

Thanks, JVR! You made my day!

Tricia S. said...

Lot of truth to this story, LOL! The last line sticks.

Deb said...

HA! Love the humor. Damn lemonade...