It looked as though it was going to be just another Monday at Manny’s Autobody Shop. There was a fender bender to repair, a cracked windshield to replace, a few paint scratches that needed to be buffed out, and some tires to replace. No one expected anything out of the ordinary to pop up, but then again no one had bothered to ask Gord Owens what he was planning to do for his vacation before he had left the previous Friday.
“Larry, do you see what I see?” Paul Burger asked his fellow mechanic.
“That depends on what you’re looking at?” Larry answered.
“There, across the street,” Paul said while pointing in that direction.
“Do you mean the donut truck? Yeah, I see it. It’s there everyday. What’s the big deal?”
Larry did have a point. Everyday between the hours of 11 a.m. and 6 p.m., Dees Donuts parked her food truck in the lot across the street and sold freshly made mini-donuts. There were thirty flavours from which to choose including cheesecake, jalapeno, lime, and cotton candy. People came from all across the city to pig out on her mini-donuts, and at just two dollars for half a dozen and three dollars for a dozen, they were quite the bargain. What Larry failed to notice was the lawn chair set up outside of the donut truck.
“Do you see that lawn chair out front of the truck?” Paul then asked Larry.
“Yeah, now that you mention it,” he said after taking a second look. “Is that Gord sitting there?”
“I think it is,” Paul then said. “What do you suppose he’s doing sitting there? Isn’t he supposed to be away on vacation?”
“Maybe we should go ask him. Hey Manny,” Larry shouted at the owner. “Paul and I will be right back. We’re going over to the donut truck.”
“Bring me back half a dozen of the jalapeno ones. And hurry up. I’m not paying you to eat donuts,” their clock watching boss ordered.
Across the street they headed, where sure enough they found their co-worker sitting and enjoying a dozen of Dee’s finest mini-donuts.
“Hey Gord, whatch’ya doing?” Paul asked the shop’s longest serving mechanic. “I thought you were on vacation.”
“I am,” Gord replied. “This is my vacation.”
“Sitting across the street from the shop, eating donuts? What kind of vacation is that?”
“It’s the only kind of vacation I can afford, what with the crappy money and hours Manny offers us. I’d like to go on a real getaway, but this is all I can swing. Have you tried the Margarita flavoured ones? I swear, it’s like being in Mexico. At least, I assume it is. I’ve never been for real. You know, on account of the shit pay I make.”
“Are you going to be here all week?” Paul then asked.
“Oh, okay. See you later, I guess.”
Paul and Larry then headed back to work. Every half an hour or so they’d look up from whatever job they were doing, catch Gord watching them, and then give him a wave. It was the weirdest vacation they had ever seen anyone take.