There I was. The spitting image of professionalism. I was that guy out there - you know that guy. The one you’d see swaggering down the street, walking all cool-like, making you turn your head as he passes and go like, “Damn man, that guy slick as hell.”

Yeah, that was me. Brand new suit, combed, waxed hair, my chest puffing out like bread in the oven, or whatever the hell the metaphor was.

The streets of this bustling city have never seen a more cooler person than I that day.

Alone in my room, the night before, rummaging through emails before calling it a night, that was when I struck bronze, silver, and gold. Now there I was, ready to claim my prize.

I smacked my lips, took in the sweet smell of pollution, and practiced the speech I’ve rehearsed tirelessly in front of the mirror this morning.

“Ever since I was a young boy, your company was the first and only option I’ve ever wanted to work for. I would dream endlessly about the day I would walk into your doors and…”

Flawless. Absolutely perfect. What could possibly go wrong?

Everything. Everything could absolutely go wrong and it did.

I walked into the wrong goddamn building apparently. Whoopsie-do. The stare that that receptionist gave me was not something I would like to relive ever again.

After that, I stepped into a puddle on my way to the correct building. I had to use the stupid hand dryer in the male’s toilet to dry off my trousers afterward. Guess who I had to ask, my shoes and pant-leg soaked in road gloop for directions to the bathroom? Yes, that building’s receptionist.

I practically felt the silent judgment radiating off of her as I huddled back over to the counter to ask about my appointment for the job interview.

Oh, what’s that? Wrong building again? FOR THE LOVE OF -

Okay, I know I’m new to town, ol’ little country boy me won’t get used to the customs until later on, but why the hell would you build three similar-looking buildings on the same freaking address?!

Fire your architects!

Alright, whatever, I got the correct building this time. Nothing else could possibly backfire on me, right?

Wrong, said God, roaring with laughter at my misery like the big bully in the clouds he is.

“I’m - I’m here… for...” I wheezed. “I’m here for an interview. My name is - “

“You missed it. Have a nice day.”

At least receptionist #3 was nice about it.

And then, seemingly as a last cruel joke from the righteous devil above, it started to drizzle on my slow, gloomy trudge home.

Just like that, all essence of my haughty bravado was cleansed by the pouring rain. Bye-bye hair wax, we had a nice run together even if I absolutely did despise your overpowering stench. Bye-bye rental suit, the shop I got you from will have a fun time wondering as to why you’re soaked and smell like mud when I return you tomorrow.

Wait, I’ll get billed for that, won’t I? Shit.

But, hey, if I have been crying, which I wasn’t, honest. The rain at least provided good cover to hide the fact. Again, just to reaffirm, wasn’t crying, not today, not ever, serious. Okay, maybe a sniffle here and there, but no tears.

Just as my misery was starting to reach its peak, a huge crashing noise erupting from a nearby alley came in time to drive me away from the increasingly tempting thought to sell my kidney at the black market to net some profit.

Stupid rat, I thought, walking past the narrow alleyway, but another ruffling noise stopped me in my tracks again. That was when an empty, folded tin can hit me in the face.

Okay, now it’s a stupid dead rat.

I picked up the can and walked into the alley, all the while muttering silent profanities at my dwindling luck. Saw one of those huge green rusted metal dumpsters at the side, so I took the can, got into a stance, and did my best Michael Jordan impression.

In it went, any second I anticipated the sweet satisfying sound of clattering metal as it hit the bottom to emerge, but it didn’t. I heard a dull thud instead.

“Ow.”

And an ‘ow.’

“Who goes there?!”

Then also a ‘Who goes there?!’ but now I’m just getting privy with the details.

Like a rabbit appearing from a magician’s hat, a woman's head popped out from the garbage flap.

Naturally, I was left staring away in surprise. Not everyday you see a woman's face with a banana peel clinging atop her head, staring at you from the garbage bin, especially when said face had a rather prominent frown plastered on her lips.

I attempted to blink back my shock.

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“You’re a pretty big rat,” I said.

“Huh?”

“Nevermind.”

Surprisingly the only thing stranger than the encounter was her appearance. Her face was lined with sharp, sleek edges and her eyes gleamed like green gems. She was also paler than most people I’ve met and her hair was colored a stark, pure white.

Young, maybe around my age it looked like, but quite possibly the strangest thing about her was the odd shape of her ears. Sharp, long, and narrow ears. Almost like knives.

Almost like an…

"Are you cosplaying an Elf?"

I saw her eyebrows twitch and that was when I knew I'd stared for long enough.

"Cosplaying? I know not of that word, but I am indeed an elf," she said, a haughty tone to her words. “Now state your business here, oddly-worn traveler or be off on your way at once! The inhabitants of this strange world reek dreadfully with the stench of malice as repugnant as Azamoth himself. I suggest you make haste before time itself befell upon you with a fate most dire.”

Did I say her ears were the strangest thing - I wanna take that back now, actually. I felt like I just got lectured by Edgy Shakespeare.

More and more, the desire to simply walk away proved a tempting thought. But I stayed where I was in spite of it. Chalk it up to morbid curiosity or something.

“Why are you in the dumpster?” I asked.

The rain continued pattering on our heads and I noticed that she was as drenched as I was, if not, even more. Yet while I had a home to go back to, I had a sneaking suspicion that she was a different case entirely.

“Stifle all sound, traveler. A ravenous monster lurks the very ground you stand upon. I’ve seen the monstrosity with my very eyes. Loudly it growled as it sought to satiate his appetite, the earth rumbling in its wake, a thundering monstrosity of both sight, sound, and smell if there ever was one.”

“Right,” I tilted my head. “Are you high?”

She furrowed her brow and stared up to the sky. “I do not understand. My feet lay firm on solid ground, the sky remains beyond reach of me. Whatever do you mean by that? Explain yourself, traveler. My patience is not to be tested!”

“No, not literally high - I meant like… are you on drugs?”

Her glare intensified further. Does she really not understand me? Is she really that into roleplay?

“Oh boy, alright King Arthur, forgive me of my impudence,” I cleared my throat, can’t believe I’m actually doing this. “Pray tell, hath thy consumed of any concoction in recent times that hath given rise of any ailments of some kind to plague your well-being?”

That seemed to have assuaged her, if only for a bit. Her face softening in response.

“You are a strange one, oddly-worn traveler.”

Oh, I’m the strange one?

“But I sense no malevolence stirring from within you. Very well, if your curiosity must be sated, know that I am on a task to slay a monstrous being that has scoured this land for far too long.”

I rolled my eyes. “And just what does this creature look like? An orc, perhaps? Goblins? Vampires? You saw a rat, maybe?”

She stared down at me. “It was a creature forged of metal.”

“Metal?”

“Indeed. A large metal beast clad in dark green. A six-legged amalgamation of iron and rust with a large gaping hole at its back which it uses to devour its prey whole. I have seen it. Why - just recently I saw it feast upon the contents of this large metal box I now dwell in before it roared away in a thick miasma of smog.”

She said it, she actually said all that. How she did it all without bursting into laughter is beyond me. But I doubt she would have appreciated it if I started giggling away at the utter absurdity of it all.

Patience, have patience, me.

“Sorry, but could you repeat that again, please? Slowly, this time.”

I saw her lips pursed but she relented nonetheless.

“Metal beast.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Six-legged.”

“Right…”

“Gaping hole at its back.”

“Continue.”

“Saw it feast.”

“Then?”

“It roared away.”

“Roared away… alright,” I nodded my head. “Does this beast happen to make a honking sound and have a really bad smell?”

“Indeed,” she said, her face twisting to reflect her disgust. “The foulest.”

“You know, I might be mistaken...” I said to her. “But I think you’re trying to slay a garbage truck.”

“Garbage… truck?”

“Yes, that’s… that’s what they’re called.”

Her face turned into a sneer. “A foul name for a foul beast, indeed.”

I give up on this lady.

“Okay, so, what’s your goal here? How are you gonna slay it?”

“I’ve devised a plan that will prove infallible, you see,” she said, firm determination twinkling in her emerald eyes. “The beast moves and feast as it sees fit, and consistently I have noticed that it would feed upon this… this… uh...”

“Dumpster.”

“This dumpster - yes, indeed!” She nodded her head in approval. “I realize, given the beast’s hardened exterior, a direct attack at its flesh would prove only futile. So, instead, I shall sit and reside within this dumpster for the time being awaiting its arrival and once it has unwittingly consumed me in its haste for a meal, I shall slay the beast from within!”

She finished with a grandiose display of valor, confidently smiling while flourishing in her hand a large gleaming iron sword that I didn’t even know she freaking had into the air.

“Ahh! To revel in triumphant victory once more! The tension is almost palpable, wouldn’t you say?”

The rain must have flooded her brain or something. I mean, it’s the only possible explanation for her behavior and speech. What, you’re telling me she’s an actual Elf from an actual fantasy world? Highly unlikely.

A cosplayer on drugs or drunk, quite possibly both. That’s my conclusion. In any case, I want no part in this, I wanna dust myself off of this encounter - water under the bridge. Who knows what’ll happen if I keep messing around with her, like, what if she just suddenly spears me with that sword or something?

That’s right, just smile, just nod your head like you understand it all, even if you really don’t, and take your leave. You don’t need this in your life, me, trust me.

“Well then,” I began, bowing my head politely at her. “I wish you luck in your endeavor and hope that you come back down to reality sometime in the future.”

She bowed back at me. “Till next time then, oddly-worn traveler. Quenz’t adil lok’athar.”

What. You know what - I don’t even wanna know.

Deep puddles were starting to form now. The rain was getting heavier. My feet were sloshing around the place, trying to navigate myself out of the alley.

Finally, I was out in the streets. Cars were passing by like bullets in the breeze. No signs of any garbage trucks, though. I have a feeling she’s going to be in there for a while.

Ahh… whatever, I have seen and dealt with enough for today as is. It was time to go home.

And home I shall go.