Yeah, it’s science

A dear friend of mine said she was going to get me a “chakra moon power point healing and organizing stone and bathroom disinfector” as a gift because she knows how disorganized and powerless I am.

“A what?” I asked.

“It’s a rock and it has magic powers and once I charge it you leave it beside your bed and it makes you think in an organized manner,” she said.

“And it disinfects your bathroom.”

I was touched.

“A what?” I asked.

“Okay, see the stone comes from ancient ruins in Peru — or maybe it’s Amsterdam — but either way once I charge it all of the magical powers will flow out of it and into your subconscious while you sleep.

“And it disinfects your bathroom.”

I was, as you can well imagine, impressed.

“A what?” I asked.

“It’s science, probably brought to this planet by aliens — at least that’s what the guy with the funky-looking hair on ‘Ancient Aliens’ said. But it works. After a week you’ll be so organized in your thoughts and actions people will wonder what happened to you.

“And it will disinfect your bathroom.”

I felt so happy.

I didn’t ask about the stone again.

But I was so touched by the gesture, the well-meaning intentions behind this wonderful piece of alien science being given to me — once it was charged — that I had to find a gift for my dear friend in return.

I mean, that’s what people do, right? This was in February.

So, I found a “Crocon Turquoise Gemstone Money Tree Feng Shui Bonsai for Reiki Healing Chakra Stone Balancing Energy Generator Spiritual Meditation Home Interior Office Decor Size 10-12 Inch” thing for my friend.

I kid you not, that’s the actual description.

I found it on Amazon.

It didn’t give a description, but the title sure sounded awesome.

I ordered this thing in March. Well, you know what happened next, don’t you?

The first e-mail let me know that because of the pandemic, getting all the little magic parts for this thing was going to take time. There just wasn’t any feng shui to be found. Did I still want it?

“Yes,” I replied.

Then I received an e-mail that said because of the pandemic, people weren’t allowed to go see the monkeys at the local zoo. Did I still want my little magic tree?

“Yes,” I replied. I wasn’t sure what monkeys had to do with it, but who am I to question something like that?

Then I received an e-mail that said because of the shortage of viewing monkey time at the local zoo and because nothing was really going to be delivered — by anybody — unless it was an essential product, did I still want my little magic tree, and if not, could they just keep the money so they could donate it to the monkey house at the local zoo?

“Yes,” I responded, “I want the dang tree. And what’s the name of the monkey house and I’ll make a donation anyway. I like monkeys.”

I didn’t hear anything for about two weeks, then I got a notice that my little magic tree had been “shipped.” At that point, I realized I hadn’t received my magic piece of alien science rock that was going to disinfect my brain and organize my bathroom, so I asked her about it.

“I’m not giving it to you,” she said. “You’re not a real believer.” Well, that certainly stung. Because I like that guy with the funky hair on ‘Ancient Aliens.’

“But I liked charged up pieces of alien science rock that ... Do whatever it is they do. Really!” I said. “If I didn’t believe, I wouldn’t have gotten you a Feng Shui turquoise kilt and money bag tree with chakra generators and sub wolf speakers with interior office turquoise thing — 10-12 inch size,” I said.

“A what?” She asked.

“You know, a magic tree thingy. With all of those ancient alien powers that will make you rich —though I don’t think it disinfects anything,” I said.

“Plus, the photo of this thing looks real cool.”

OK, it’s not a real photo. It’s more like an artist’s rendering of what it’s supposed to look like.

Drawn with a crayon.

“Well,” my dear friend said, “I’ll think about giving you your rock when I see MY doe-eyed feng shui donut finder and hair-curling money tree with turquoise highlights — 10-12 inches in size.”

So, now I’m waiting for delivery. The last estimate for that was June 5. It’s being delivered by a group of unemployed monkeys.