I work out, at a local gym. No, I'm not bragging. It's just something I do, exercise, a necessary pill of life on earth. My favorite part is leaving the gym. That's always a good time of day for me, and on the October afternoon in question, I was in particularly good spirits. The weather was nice, I'd had a good workout, God was in His heaven. However, my exit from the gym was delayed a minute or so. There had been a man applying a vinyl graphic over the door, and he'd been accosted in conversation and didn't notice my needing to leave. Him and his friend chatted a moment -- probably not even a minute, more like thirty seconds, whatever -- and then Friend came inside, thereby allowing me through. The sign man apologized as I left, and I told him no problem, because it wasn't.
I went on my way, merrily going about my errands and enjoying my hard-won endorphin buzz. First stop after the gym was the local UPS drop, to ship off a guitar (another pontifical favor for my un-eBayed friend). As it turned out, though, the shipping fee was more than I expected, hence I had to leave it and go foraging for cash. I returned to the drop a half-hour later, and when I arrived, guess who happened to be there, pasting a vinyl decal over the door? I'll give you a hint: it wasn't Santa Claus.