One fine evening a man was riding his motorcycle...

...down a rural country road. It was a gorgeous sight against the red and orange sunset. He had been riding for about an hour and passed all sorts of country sights. A tractor in a field. Cows grazing. A canopy tunnel of trees. And different novelty mailboxes including a bright pink one. . Suddenly a downpour came upon him. The sudden rain made the roads very slippery and he wound up laying the bike over in a ditch. This caused some parts to come loose and hoses break. He reached for his phone but it was soaked and unable to turn on after the accident.

Stranded and alone, he decided to walk down the road back the way he came. The pink mailbox was less than a mile away and he figured there was a house nearby. As he finally started to reach the pink mailbox, he noticed there were pink flowers planted around it. He thought nothing of it and made his way down the long now-muddy road. After a few minutes he came upon a huge pink gate with pink railings and a pink call box.

The man rang the pink box and a pink tinted screen came on with an old lady answering,“Hello?”

“Hello,” said the man. “I’ve been riding down the road and had an accident. Would it be alright if I came in and used your phone? My cell phone is soaked.”

“Of course!” said the old woman. And the huge pink gate gave a creak as it opened up.

The man walked through the huge pink gate and walked up to her house. It was a massive, 3-story, colonial style house with a porch that wrapped completely around. And it was all pink. The house had pink bushes planted in front. Pink steps with pink banisters led up to the pink porch with pink rocking chairs and pink ceiling fans. He walked up and rang the pink doorbell which gave out a very bright and pleasant “ding.”

The large pink front door opened up and the old woman greeted him with a smile. She was wearing a pink nightgown and pink slippers.

“Please, come in,” she said, and motioned her little hand inside.

As the man stepped inside, his jaw dropped. Every single thing inside the house was pink. The tile on the floor was two-toned, checkerboard style pink. The curtains we pink with pink embroidery embellishments. Even the frames on the windows were pink. He took a step and started to take his muddy boots off when he noticed the pink umbrella holder and pink coat rack.

“You are soaked to the bone! Would you like a towel to dry off?” asked the little pink woman.

“Yes, please,” answered the man.

“Go into the kitchen. The telephone is in there,” she instructed, as she went into another room.

The man made his way across the entry room into the kitchen. His hand lightly swept across the pink dresser, along the pink walls and pink trim, down the pink door frame, and to the small pink dining table. He sat in a pink chair and picked up the pink rotary phone. Even the telephone wire was pink. He attempted to dial a number but the phone seemed to be disconnected.

The little pink lady came in with a large pink towel and handed it to the man. It was warm as if it had just come out of the clothes dryer.

“Thank you so much,” said the man. “But I think your phone is disconnected because of the storm.”

The pink lady responded,”Oh, that’s a shame. Well, if you need to you can stay in one of the guest bedrooms for the night.”

The man thanked her for her kindness and made his way up the pink stairs, holding onto the pink banister. He walked down the pink hallway with pink wallpaper. He walked into a bedroom and found it to be completely pink. On the pink bed were some pink pajamas, a pink robe, another pink towel, and a pink travel toothbrush wrapped in plastic. He took the pink towel, pink robe, and pink toothbrush and went to the bathroom to wash up before bed.

In the bathroom, the man undressed and used the pink soap and pink shampoo to wash himself. Then he dried himself with the pink towel and put on the pink robe. He used the pink sink to brush his teeth with the pink toothbrush with the pink toothpaste that was already in the pink bathroom.

He then went back into the pink bedroom and changed into his pink pajamas. He laid down on the bed and covered himself with the pink blanket and pink sheet. Then, laying his head down on the pink pillow, he fell right to sleep.

In the morning, the man woke up and made his way downstairs. In the hallway, he ran into two other men. They introduced themselves and explained to each other why they were there. One man had slid into a ditch near the motorcycle accident and lost his phone. The other man was the pink lady’s nephew who came in earlier that morning.

After making their way down, they came upon the little old lady was already dressed in a pink top and pink pants with little pink shoes. She was carrying the man’s clothes and asked the gentlemen if they would like breakfast.

“Would you like bacon and eggs or oatmeal?” she asked.

“I’ll have oatmeal, Auntie.”

“I’ll have bacon and eggs,” said the man in the car accident.

“I’ll have bacon and eggs, as well,” said the man in the motorcycle accident.

“Very good,” said the little pink lady.

She made the breakfast with her pink cooking utensils and pink pots and pans. The bacon sizzled and steam rose into the pink vent. She took out some pink plates and pink silverware and set them on the table where the men were seated. She brought down some pink glasses and poured each man some strawberry milk.

They all ate and were satisfied with their breakfast. The man tried the phone again and it was working. He called his wife and asked her to come pick him up. The man in the car accident used the phone and asked his roommate to pick him up.

A few hours later, the wife and the roommate both show up and pick up their respective husband and friend. And they all lived happily ever after.

There is one conclusion we can take from this story.

Two out of three men prefer bacon and eggs over oatmeal.