Today at work I was asked to run over to the commissary to pick up my boss’s lunch. When I turned the corner to head down the alley to the take out window, the most beautiful espresso colored pony was walking towards me. He was being led by a guy with a safari hat who I assume was his trainer. I nearly gasped at the sight of this majestic creature limbering across the cement in the melty afternoon sun. His hooves made clippity clop sounds and as I got closer, I saw that he was wearing freshly polished silver horseshoes. His long black hair swung along in the breeze as he proudly pranced along, and I swear he was smiling at me as our paths crossed.
Once I returned to my office, still high from the pony sighting, I excitedly told my coworker all about my new baby horse friend. She was half listening to me as she looked through some papers while I rambled on that I saw a pony and that his mane was so shiny. She looked at me really weird for a minute and said, “What? You saw Conan and he has a shiny mane?”
She had misheard me and thought I had seen Conan O’Brien. I don’t know how she heard ‘Conan’ from the word ‘pony’, but I can only imagine that the pony high was causing me to speak at an accelerated, incoherent pace. Conan often eats at the commissary because Conan tapes on the lot, so it wouldn’t have been that unusual. It would have been more usual in fact to see him rather than a pony. Once I told her it was a pony and not Conan, we busted up laughing at the thought of Conan O’Brien with a shiny horse mane.
If Conan were a pony, his name would definitely be Coco. And I’m Team Coco all the way.