Story 30 of 100

Elena Tucker
5 min readMar 17
Photo by David Clode on Unsplash

Shark Tank.

OK, I’ll start at the beginning. I couldn’t just leave the tank of sharks in the parking lot while I was waiting for the aquarium guys to show up, so I decided I had to take them to my favorite Chinese restaurant. I’m kidding, of course — I took them to my favorite Mexican restaurant. Ha ha! No, I mean it, I took them to my favorite Mexican restaurant while I ate lunch there, and tried to figure out what to do. How, on God’s green earth, were I to know they were to be stolen and used in a heinous crime while I enjoyed my usual carne asada with chips, salsa and Pepsi? I mean … Officer, please, you asked me a question, and I intend to tell you the whole story, the whole unvarnished truth and nothing but the truth, so that includes the back story, right?

Bear with me, I will tell you all I know. … Because I am the innocent, injured party … obviously other than the dead man, sure. But you can verify all my details, sure as crap, my mother didn’t raise any liars.

I didn’t even realize that the tank was missing until I was driving away and heard the flapping of the doors. Usually, we lock up tighter than Fort Knox, and I’ve been working for Deliveries ‘R Us for four years now, so it’s second nature for me to lock it, double check, and then look around to make sure there aren’t any undesirables lurking. You know who I’m talking about — shifty characters, the kind that might hot wire my truck, someone who looks like trouble, who looks drunk or high, like a gang of teenagers, or a lone cowboys, — not that I have any beef with cowboys, that was just an expression … yeah, yeah, I’ll get on with it.

Anyhow, I know I locked my truck real good, but the door flap was busted loose, and I pulled over and sure enough, the only thing missing was the shark tank. I checked and triple checked all my other packages, but I only had three others, since the sharks was the biggest and most important, and I saved it for last. Those other three ones, they were close to work, and I was saving them for the return trip, so I could just deliver and check out. It ain’t rock surgery, know what I mean? I knew I was in deep trouble. I knew I was fired, right there and then. I had nothing to lose. I turned my truck around and headed right back to that restaurant.

Elena Tucker

Writer and storyteller, immigrant, wife, mom, knitter, collector of jokes, lover of cheap, sweet wine.