They Won't Cancel St. Valentine's Day

 

                Cupid looked at his wristwatch anxiously. The bus was already 25 minutes late. He looked down the long straight street for some sign of the bus, but there was just nothing in sight. He pulled at the edges of his diaper and nervously adjusted his “St. Valentine’s Day” sash across his baby sized torso. “This was just irresponsible,” thought Cupid as he tapped his baby foot on the sidewalk.

                  “Why not just fly,” asked a voice from behind Cupid. A disheveled looking man stepped up toward Cupid, “um, you know, because you have, wings, right?” Cupid rolled his eyes.

                 “Hello Dionysus,” sighed Cupid, “You know why I can’t use my wings. They are too small to support my weight here. They only work on Earth and Gamma Hydra Forty-Seven in the Claxar Galaxy,” said Cupid.

                 “Right, right, and you can’t drive because your little baby legs don’t reach the pedals,” said Dionysus as he chuckled. He stumbled forward a little as he tried to regain his bearings. He reached out to the bus stop bench to steady himself. “I almost spilled my wine.”

                 “Yeah. Great,” said Cupid. He looked nervously at his watch again. If he didn’t get on the next bus in the next few minutes, he’d miss his ride to Earth for St. Valentine’s Day. And then no one could meet, and fall in love and make sweet sweet loving.

                 Dionysus sat down on the bench and laughed. He took another swig from is wine skin and wiped his lips with his robes.

                 “Why are you waiting for the bus,” asked Cupid.

                 “Oh, me,” said Dionysus, “I can’t drive be, because, of the thing, the thing with the driving, with my… my license was suspenders, suspended, I mean.”

                 Cupid nodded and took a baby step to his right to move away from Dionysus.  He looked back down the street and there was still no bus in sight.

                 “I don’t think it’s coming,” said Dionysus, “I think that they that hit something. I think they hit, they hit, Sisyphus, or his boulder or both, Ha!”

                 “Is that true? Is that what you heard,” asked Cupid. Cupid felt panic rush though his little baby heart.

                 “I don’t, um, don’t know if that’s what it is, that it is that it’s what it is,” said Dionysus.

                 “What,” asked Cupid, “forget it. I don’t have time.” He took out a tiny cell phone and started frantically trying to find a ChUber.  (Which is of course a Chariot you can call for rides.)

                 “I don’t think you’ll get a ChUber, now, like, it’s almost Valentines Day. They’ll be so busy,” said Dionysus, “but I hope we can hang out like the old, olden, the old days, when you, you get back, because that would be fun.” He fell asleep with his chin on his chest.

                 “Damn it,” said Cupid. “Of all the days…,” He sighed and looked down the street again. A ChUber was two minutes away.