Sombrero

' A Sembrero fell out of the sky and landed on the main street of town infront of the mayor, his cousin and a person out of work. The day wasscrubbed clean by the desert air. The sky was blue. It was the blue of humaneyes, waiting for something to happen. There was no reason for a sombrero tofall out of the sky. No airplane or helicopter was passing overhead and itwas not a religious holiday.'

The first tear formed itself in the right eyes. That was the eye that alwayscrying first. Then the left followed. He would have found it interesting ifhe had known that the right eye started crying first. The left eye startedcrying so close after the right eye that he didn't know which eye startedcrying first, but it was always the right one.

He was very perceptive but he wasn't perceptive enough to know which eyestarted crying first. That is, if one can use such a small piece ofinformation as any kind of definition of perception.

'Is that a sombrero?' the mayor said. Mayors always speak first, especiallyif it is impossible for them to rise to any other political position thanmayor of a small town.
'Yes,' said his cousin, who wanted to be a mayor himself.

The man who had no job said nothing. He waited to see which way the wind wasblowing. He didn't want to rock the boat. Being out of work in America is nolaughing matter.

'It fell from the sky,' said the mayor, looking up into the absolutely clearblue sky.
'Yes,' said the cousin.

The man who had no job said nothing because he wanted a job. He did not wantto jeopardize whatever faint possibility he had of getting one. It wasbetter for everybody if the big shots did all the talking.

The three men looked around for a reason for a sombrero to fall out of thesky but they couldn't find one, including the man who had no job.

The sombrero looked brand-new.
It was lying in the street with its crown pointed toward the sky.
Size: 7 1/4.

'Why are hats falling from the sky?' said the mayor.
'I don't know,' said the cousin.
The man who was without a job wondered if the hat would fit his head.

Now both eyes were crying.
Oh, God...
He reached into the typewriter as if he were an undertaker zipping up thefly of a dead man in his coffin and removed a piece of paper with everythingthat has been written here except for his crying, which he didn't know hewas doing because he has done it so often recently that it was like drinkinga glass of water that you drink accidentally when you are not thirsty and donot remember it afterwards.

He tore the piece of paper that had everything that you have read here aboutsombrero. He tore it up very carefully into many pieces and threw them onthe floor.

He would start over agian the next morning writing about something else thatwould have nothing to do with a sombrero falling out of the sky.

His business was writing books. He was a very well-known American humorist.It was difficult to find a bookstore that did not carry at least one of histitles.

Why was he crying, then?
Isn't fame enough?
The answer is quite simple.
His Japanese girlfriend was gone.
She had left him.
That was the reason for tears that started in eyes that he could no longerremember except for their crying which was now an everyday occurence sincethe Japanese woman had left him.

Some days he cried so much that he thought that he was dreaming.