It's 5:30 on Friday. My tax return is lighting a fire in my bank account and I'm halfway to Kenwood Mall.
My phone rings; it's the Boss Man. He never calls.
Shit. He's gonna want something and I'm gonna have to drive back to work. Ugh.
I answer anyway, because I'm good a employee like that.
He says, excitedly, "Did you hear about the new restaurant on the moon?"
I respond with silence.
He continues, undeterred: "It got bad reviews; the critics said it had no atmosphere."
Oh god, I think. It's even worse than having to drive back to work... on a Friday.
"Hahaha! Good, right?! There's a little April Fool's from a scientist for ya!"
It was the longest 31 seconds of my life.
Fortunately I was able to salve my mental anguish with a soft pretzel and some new clothes.