Why is it so difficult to find a pitchfork when you need one?

I was walking in the park with a friend when I made a horrible discovery. As we walked along on the warm, sunny day, I had an irrepressible urge to path dance. Actually, that's a lie, because I did repress it; but what I didn't repress was expressing my desire to path dance aloud to my friend. "Path dance?" she said, completely unsure what I was talking about. "Yeah, you know path dance," I said, to which she responded with a blank stare.

It was then that, for the first time in my life, I realized: Not everyone has irrepressible urges to path dance. For those that don't, I may need to explain what "path dance" means. According to the dictionary, "Path dance: the act of dancing along a path as if you live in a musical, often combined with path sing, but can also occur with no discernible external source of music." (Please don't ask for references, because I obviously made it up and, seriously, do you really need to make this any more awkward than it already is?)

Up until this point, I had gone through life assuming that we all secretly want to path dance but just don't. But, if one person doesn't want to path dance, there are probably others. My mind was officially blown. Then I thought, what about hall dance? Subway dance? Grocery shop dance? No, not even public washroom dance? Really? Are these all yearnings that I alone am repressing? No, I don't think that could be it. Others are probably just double repressing. Like, it would hurt so much to suppress their need for random musical moments that they've managed to hide that desire from even themselves. Unfortunately, instead of comforting me, this explanation just made me very sad.

But, then I remembered my friend Bark Montes (Note: all names are changed...badly). He not only appears to want to randomly dance, but does it. Sometimes he'll just start dancing alone, completely out of nowhere. I wish I could post a video, but that might defeat the purpose of so cleverly disguising his identity.

This temporarily comforted me, knowing that I couldn't be the sole person on the planet who wants to randomly dance on a day to day basis. Then I remembered that I'm pretty sure Bark Montes is not human at all, but a robot.

There are many reasons for this theory. First, he wears many layers. Far too many layers. For a long time I tried to figure out why one would need so many layers, until I realized it was to shelter his chrome heart and muffle the sound of creaking in his robot joints. Second...oh wait, it's mainly just the layer thing. But I think too many layers is a good enough reason to assume that a person is a robot and make plans to run them out of town, hopefully with pitchforks, if we can find them (I hope Bark Montes isn't reading this, or, to be more accurate, downloading it into his robot brain, because it might ruin the surprise).

Pitchforks aren't as easily accessible as they should be. I have often thought "this job would be easier with a pitchfork" only to realize that I don't have one. To be honest, I've never looked that hard, because my pitchfork needs are usually pretty fleeting.

So, after much thought, my one hope that path dance might be normal turned out to be a robot. That led me to think: "Could I be a robot?" Probably not. First, I wear very few layers. Second, I often use bad grammar. Third, I'm afraid of bears. Fourth, no one has ever made my head explode with a logical fallacy, mainly I just silently judge them. For these reasons, it's pretty clear that I'm not a robot.

Sometimes, when I'm bored, I like to silently judge people. But, sometimes when I'm bored and lazy I like to just pretend that I'm silently judging them. No need to go through all the trouble of actually judging when you can make them uncomfortable without it. Shortcuts are fun.