The Twix Bar

Sometimes my mind wanders. 

I’m on my way back to the office from Office Max. Before I left, I picked up a Cherry Coke and a Twix bar for my afternoon snack. As I got into my truck, I began to conjure up a story about me being a writer and writing what was about to happen: 

“…And there he sat, at his computer, typing away with an empty Cherry Coke bottle on the floor and a half-eaten Twix on the desk…” 

My book was a best-seller and I was in New York during an autograph session when one thought-provoking fan approached me. 

“What did you mean by ‘half-eaten Twix,’ Sir?” he inquired. 

What?” I responded, not knowing what he was talking about. 

“Well, sir, everyone knows that a Twix has two bars in it. Was your character’s Twix half eaten as in one of the bars was eaten or was one of the two bars half eaten?” 

I stood there in bewilderment, my anxious fans looking on, awaiting some sort of enlightenment from their new intellectual champion. “What the hell difference does it make!” The audience was stunned. 

My adversary began rather slowly, “well sir, if only one bar was gone and the other still there, then that would portray a neater image than the one of the half-eaten bar.” The more he talked, the faster he talked, ”Saving a complete bar for later would not only show how conscious he was about saving the whole bar for later, but how thrifty he was by purchasing a bar that could be eaten in such a way. On the other hand, a half eaten bar leaves me thinking of the saliva and drool dripping off the already-oozing caramel – he would be a slob.” 

I stood dumb-founded as the crowd cheered. 

My fans were quickly drawn to the stranger and left me. In this short little dialogue, I had lost everything -- my reputation, my credibility, my self respect. 

By this time I had made it out of the parking lot of the Office Max. The last couple thoughts has gone by so quick I was forced to go back and analyze them. 

I’m amazed at how quickly I carelessly created the first three characters: The author, the author’s character, and the adversary. I had thought I was the author, but clearly I was the character, but I KNOW I was the one who thought all this up. I had created a paradox. But who was my adversary? 

And who gives a crap about the Twix. 

Was this a parable of some sort meant to teach me something? 


Rise Against was playing in the CD player. “Now I'm standing on the rooftop ready to fall 

I think I'm at the edge now but I could be wrong” And I’m instantly transplanted to the top of Town Center, teetering on the edge of the railing. 

The funny thing - that railing doesn’t exist. The top of the parking garage has some small vocational training office up top so the average onlooker can’t get there. Bastards! 

Time to get back to work. 

Like I said, my mind wanders sometimes.

Twix Bar