Otis Ford

I warned my daughter never to date a guy named Otis.
“You’ll see his name in every elevator. If it doesn’t work out, it’ll drive you crazy.”
“Oh Daddy,” she said. “Don’t worry about me.”
Not only did she not heed my warning, but her Otis had a last name of Ford.
Otis Ford.
Every Otis elevator…
Every Ford vehicle…
She was a goddamned mess all the time.
She wound up having to flee to some backwards country without elevators or cars.
I send her letters, but she doesn’t answer them.
I’ll just let her be. Time heals everything, right?

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