God's Favorite Person Part II

Perhaps since the last installment of a day in the life of Mike Kilgarriff you have seen Mike and have noticed some of the, shall we say, “Peculiarities” of his existence. Maybe it was a compliment a little too nice; a task a little too undemanding; an obstacle a little too effortless. Whatever “it” was, let me reassure that it was no coincidence. This was not a momentary offering from chance, not just luck. The powers that be have made damn sure that Mike is always lucky. Actually, calling Mike lucky is more of an understatement than calling the Sun the brightest star in the sky. Mike is God’s favorite person.
Without rehashing what I already said about Mike, let me tell you this. God’s favoritism is biblical, he can put a mark on your head that allows you to kill your enemies or he can have your ass swallowed by a huge fish. As far as I can tell, it doesn’t really matter in the least who/what/where you are; you’re either sanctified or fucked. I’m just happy that I fall somewhere in the gray area of the spectrum. As for Mike, he has a big thumbs-up from some higher authority. To further illustrate the reality in which only he exists, I have prepared the end to Mike’s typical day. My first idea was to have Mike reacting to a “bad” day, but as soon as I got the idea my computer crashed and I got a nosebleed. I haven’t thought about Mike having a rough day since. We’ll continue where we left off.

4:20PM – After a strenuous hour-long day of classes, Mike is ready for his usual wind down activities.
4:34PM – Walking into the DAC, Mike gives the finger to security guard at the desk. She buzzes him in.
4:37PM – Setting his clothes on the bench. Mike opens up a random locker and starts dressing with the clothes inside. He has no idea that these are not actually “complementary” as he is accustomed to. He is responsible for the consistent rash of thefts occurring at the gym.
4:45PM – Walking down to the aerobic area, Mike moves his bike machine from its location to directly behind the treadmills where three girls are jogging. He finds the incentive gives him a more complete work-out.
5:07PM – Walking to get a drink, he glances in on the yoga class. A few of the girls smile at him, while other try to avoid eye contact. A month ago, he attended a class here, mainly because it’s where his “incentive” was heading. He wore a pair of “borrowed” shorts that were about to two sizes too small. The ensuing erection caused quite a commotion in the class. First, the instructor gasped in horror, to which Mike retorted with something about ancient, leotards, and moose knuckles. When the rest of the girls turned around stunned, he responded, “What, is it my fault that you’re limber and I have an imagination?” He then got up to go, but not before punching the one other guy in the class in the face for not having an erection.
5:41PM – Walking past the recently closed bar, Moka’s, Mike has no recollection of any incidents. However, as the police reports indicated, there were some incidents there, in which he was involved. After having a particularly heavy Tuesday night of drinking, Mike stumbled into Moka’s and demanded a drink from the bartender. After receiving a rinse cup full of Lite, Mike laughed at the barkeep and proceeded to chug the can of paint thinner left on the floor by the closet. Now sufficiently intoxicated, Mike saw a group of guys smoking a hookah and talking about literature that they didn’t understand. Grabbing one of them by his popped collar, Mike took a lungful of what, much to his dismay, was not a controlled substance. He realized that these douchebags were just faking being high. He then stormed out of the bar, and searched for the nearest thing to get him buzzed.
Smelling something pungent enough to be weed, Mike followed the smell to what turned out to be the bum in front of 7-11. Not wanting to touch him, Mike pushed him into the bar. He then proceeded to yell at him to stuff himself into the bowl and simultaneously tried to light him on fire. Realizing that smoking the homeless was not working out the way he had planned, Mike left the bar in the chaos that he had created, with firemen, cops, and terrified freshmen all trying to figure out what was happening. Taco Lou, thankfully, was unhurt.
5:48PM - Strolling into the 7-11, Mike was greeted kindly and given complimentary taquitos. He, of course, took it without question, but the owners were trying to thank him for eradicating their homeless problem. Free items and a lifetime discount were, however, redundant with Mike for two reasons.
The first being that he got discounts already from the Hindu night clerk because Mike often told him that he "saved another cow" recently. While the clerk took this literally, Mike was actually referring to letting a fat freshman blow him at a party as "saving a cow". The second reason that Mike had no concept of goods for money, and had actually been the store's biggest shoplifter. Often leaving locks of his hair in the Give a Penny/Take a Penny jar as an attempt to barter for the food he took. Sometimes he even left his hockey mask on in the store after his practice. Mike is the infamous "Masked Terrorist/Shoplifter" of West Philadelphia that is often reported in the news.
6:10PM - Walking back into Moka's and into the back storeroom, Mike sat down and ate his dinner. He had padded the floor and walls of the bar’s back room, and had started his own "Yoga" class. It was an excuse for him to flesh out some of the ideas he had back in the DAC's yoga class with many of the same girls. He took his pants off, and waited for his pupils to arrive.

Well, that about does it for the typical day of Mike Kilgarriff. Hopefully, Mike (and God) will understand I was just trying to bring the joy of His favorite creation to a wider audience. As well as to alleviate some of shock most people have when the hang out with Mike for the first time. Take my word for it; it really is like this ALL of the time.