Paenismus

Paenismus (pai-nis’-mus): Expressing joy for blessings obtained or an evil avoided.

I was walking down the street when some guy jumped out of a 10th story window and missed landing on me by inches. He would’ve crushed me and killed me. I was stunned. His wallet had fallen out of his pocket and I picked it up before the crowd gathered. I was grateful to be alive and even more grateful for his wallet. My priorities were warped, but what the hell—this was New York.

The wallet was like a Christmas present I would open when I got to my “apartment,” which was a walk-in closet in my uncle Ted’s actual apartment. I rented the closet for $50.00 per month. I considered uncle Ted generous and kind—he even let me use the bathroom.

I got “home” and went to my “room.” I opened the wallet. It was empty. I tore it apart and there was a key underneath the coin purse. It had a number 480 on it and an address: 146 State St., Reno, NV. I didn’t know what to do. I had enough money for a one-way bus ticket to Reno. I was certain the key would lead to money. The guy was dead, so it wouldn’t matter to him if I grabbed his cash!

I got on my bus to Reno at Port Authority and headed west. There was a woman sitting by me wearing a mink coat. Given that we were on a bus and not flying first class to Reno, I thought she might have a story to tell. She told me her husband had caught he cheating with the guy from across the street, a policeman. She was naked when he caught her. Her husband told her to take the mink and get the hell out. He gave her bus fare to Reno to get a divorce. When night fell, she snuggled up by me. I didn’t know what to do, so I went to the bathroom and sat on the toilet, successively ceding it to people who needed it, until sunrise. The woman was lying across the seat. I poked her and she sat up. She asked if I would help her get some clothes. When we got to Reno, we went to a pawn shop. She took some clothes into the rest room, came out dressed and pawned her mink. She got $300.00 for it, paid for the clothes and we parted company.

I asked the proprietor where State Street is. He said “You’re on it man!” I asked him which way 146 was. He told me it would be right, but State Street ended at 145. I didn’t believe him, so I took off down the street. He was right, the street ended at 145, but the sidewalk kept going across the street. I crossed the street and looked down at the pavement. The sidewalk looked like it had a small keyhole in it. I took out my key, inserted it and turned it. The cement slab started slowly going down like an elevator. I hopped on it. Another slab slid shut above me as I went down. Lights came on when I reached the bottom.

The woman from the bus was there. She said she was glad to see me. Her teeth had become pointed. The man who had jumped out the window, with his brain hanging out, put his arm around her and said “Looks like we got another one with the ‘Dead Man’s Wallet Scam‘ honey. Fire up the barbecue!”

I was frozen in place and couldn’t move. They were going to eat me! Just then, I woke up in my closet. It was a nightmare. Then, I saw the mink coat alongside me on the floor. It was hers! I passed out.

Definitions courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu).

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