Lightside

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Anyone with any sense knows there are days when it is wisest to stay in bed, not venture out the door. For most of us these days are rare. Others get their fair share and then some.

An example of this is Three Beer.

As long as I have known him, misadventure has been almost constantly one step behind him and gaining ground. Calamity should be his second name.

For years he ignored his penchant for mishap. Happy in his false sense of well-being, Three Beer liked to wager on the horses. For example, when Toronto's old Woodbine racetrack was still operating, he would sneak off work early to place a few bucks on a sure thing.

The time was easy to get off, provided someone would clock off your time card for you. He, in turn, would return the favour. This was common practice in his trade until the company decided to conduct a time study on all employees.

Offended by such distrust, my friend opted to go to another company. That was his second mistake. The new company was much stricter and had a penchant for insisting its workers overcome bad habits including gambling and/or a weakness for independent thought.

It wasn't too long before Three Beer's interest in thoroughbred horse racing had him in the foreman's office. Seems the boss also knew about the time card scam and the time his workers were stealing.

Following that talk, my wayward pal swore off betting on the nags. He seemed happier as did the boss. Then the boss discovered a shop lottery pool has been organized and Three Beer was the mastermind.

All bookkeeping, cash collecting and pertinent paperwork was done on company time. My pal charged 10 per cent of any winnings for his management skills. Needless to say he soon changed employers.

That all took place years ago. He gave gambling a lingering, not inexpensive farewell. Now other than a weekly lotto ticket he takes no bets.

This is not to say that all his problems dissolved when he changed his ways. No such luck, pardon the pun.

What he did do was reorganize his priorities. Admirable to be sure. But some of his decisions remain questionable and mishap follows him around like a donkey pursues the carrot.

Just yesterday he ended up on the short end of the stick once again. What happened was innocent enough but it got him in the doghouse at home. His problem rubbed off and I am now also a person living under a shadow.

What happened was that we just happened to be passing a bakery. We are both on a diet so the pastries, cakes, tarts, rolls and bread products are off limits. Despite this we ventured in, just to sniff the air, you understand.

We drooled over the marvellous display and heard our stomach growl in appreciation for the array of smells drifting around the shop. Just as we were about to exercise self control, Three Beer discovered the half-price counter,

Several apple pies were down to half price as was a large pumpkin pie. Three Beer bought the apple treats and I the pumpkin delight.

I dropped that pie getting into the car. An accident? Yes, but I could no longer take it home as a gift. So we ate it. Our willpower was gone. So we wolfed down an apple pie as a bonus.

The evidence of our lapse was all too obvious to our mates. Pastry residue tells no lies. It would have been a great day to stay in bed.