After a long day, eight hours straight of writing lines with no lunch break, then 15 miles of bike riding to and from work in 70 degree weather, my attention span for feeding myself was at par with running a marathon. Abiding by my hot afternoon ‘nothing but boxers’ policy - I spent the greater part of my afternoon immobilized on the couch with my laptop. I was a breathtaking 7 feet from the fridge, but miles from a complete meal. So, logically I ordered food online to be delivered.

When the Chinese food delivery guy arrived, I quickly tossed on a sweatshirt, to hide my manly mane of chest hair. I walked to the door, pushed the buzzer to let him in. He ran up the stairs, excited to complete my order, but when he reached the top of the stairs he had this anxious look on his face. He tenderly handed me the bag of food, the bill, then padded himself all over looking for a pen, his eyes darting every which way at the ceiling, like he was having a mild seizure. After a moment, I even looked up, maybe I was missing something important in the hallway of my complex that I never noticed before.

Finally, he fumbled a pen out of his front pocket handed it to me, and I signed the bill and handed it back to him. His head stopped swaying like Ray Charles, turned, and walked down the stairs.

“Thanks”, I shouted after him. The front door shut with a clunk and I looked down at my order. I then noticed it. My penis was completely out my boxer briefs.