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PSSSTYOU WANNA BUY AN EASTER ROUTE?

Last week, around 8 PM, as I was slipping out of my car, I heard a high-pitched voice calling me.

"Pssst," said the voice. "It sounded desperate.

I turned around quickly and looked for the source, when I spotted two large white fluffy ears poking up from behind a parked car.

"Were you talking to me?" I asked, trying to see what was attached to the ears.

"Yeah," came the reply, as a huge, I'm guessing 7 foot, rabbit, hopped out and up to me. His right hand was clutching a large straw basket filled with decorated hard-boiled eggs. His left hand was holding a large carrot.

"This is a gag," I smiled, looking around for the cameras. I was sure I was on "Just For Laughs. "Either that, or you're going to a costume party."

"It's no costume and you're not on television. I'm the real thing." He said poking his gigantic face close to mine. "Go ahead, if you don't believe me. Pull my whiskers."

I gave them a little tug. They didn't budge.

"Not so hard," he yelped, as a small red bump appeared.

"So if this is not a costume, what the heck are you? Some sort of freako?"

"I'm the Easter Bunny, DUH!" He said with an annoyed tone.

"The Easter Bunny?" I said. "I thought only children could see you."

"Ordinarily, that is true. But this is business," he said as he munched on his carrot.

"Business?"

"Yeah, you see, I'm trying to sell my route."

"You're kidding," I said.

"No, I'm not kidding. I've been doing this gig for decades. After a while, a rabbit gets tired of hippety-hopping around." He lifted one of his big flat feet. "Look at these corns and bunions. I soak them for three hours a night, to get a little relief But does anyone care? No." he frowned.

"I thought being an Easter Bunny was a fun glamour job." I said.

"What fun? What glamour?" he snapped. "Sure, I made some money on cards and chocolate bunnies, but I'm burnt out, Man. It's time for me to retire and collect Social Security."

"You don't look old enough," I said.

"I've had a couple of nips and tucks," he confessed. "And this is between me and you, I touch up my fur. It has a lot of gray in it," he said. "But let's try to keep this a secret," he said.

"But it's only once a year," I said. "C'mon, that's no big deal."

"You think so, huh?" he said. "You know how many months I devote to boiling eggsand decorating them. I'm so sick of eggs, I could puke."

"Well, you are kind of limited. I mean, what else could a seven-foot rabbit do?"

"There's plenty," he replied. "I could take an ice cream route. Or become a mailman." They get benefits. And at my age, you gotta start thinking of those things."

"I see your point," I said. "But why not ask another rabbit to take your route. Like Bugs Bunny. He already has a name."

"Bugs? You've got to be kidding. He's so high and mighty, you can't get near him. I'd have to work through his agent," he griped. "You know I heard it through reliable sources, that he has a carrot shaped swimming pool. Besides, he's retired," he said. "You sure you won't reconsider?" he said.

"I'm afraid not. I'm just not the bunny type."

"Are you kidding?" he said. "With the right costume and a push-up water bra, you'd be a smash."

And he hopped off into the sunset, leaving a trail of Easter eggs in his wake.

Learn more about this author, Marie Tomas.
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