So did everyone have a nice weekend? I would’ve liked to have gotten out of the house and gone to see the Simpsons movie, but Friday night I was feeling awfully tired, and my throat started feeling sort of scratchy. And by Saturday, I had a bit of a fever and someone seemed to be slowly filling my head with heavy marbles. (I don’t know who was doing that, but really, it seemed so unnecessary…) Sunday wasn’t much better, and all those tightly-packed marbles had completely cut off my sense of smell and sense of taste. I had some completely tasteless oatmeal for breakfast, a bowl of completely tasteless soup for lunch, and decided to have another bowl of completely tasteless oatmeal for dinner. If I’d been thinking straight, I would’ve gone out to a seafood restaurant and ordered a nice piece of grilled salmon, or some seared ahi tuna. Probably the only time I’d ever be able to stomach the taste of fish (because, obviously, it would’ve been completely tasteless).
My head is feeling less achy today, but I’m still working on reacquiring my sense of smell and taste. I ventured out to Seattle’s Best this morning with mom, and as we drove past the neighborhood landscapers, I could’ve sworn I caught the slightest whiff of freshly cut grass. It only lasted about two seconds, but it gave me hope that this demotion to three senses will soon come to an end…
I can’t help but wonder where the chink in my immune-system-armor was – usually it’s so reliable and trustworthy. Throw me in a room full of sick people, and chances are I’ll emerge unscathed. But not THIS time. And the funny thing is, I don’t know anyone who’s sick right now. Which leads me to believe some cunning, diabolical stranger passed this along to me. And when I think back to the week leading up to the onset of my symptoms, I believe I know exactly who to blame:
We were at a movie – Live Free or Die Hard, to be exact (good movie, by the way). Rick’s sister Donna was in town with her two daughters, and we decided to go to a late movie with them. The theater was more crowded than we’d expected it to be – Die Hard had already been out for weeks, so we assumed everyone would be heading to Harry Potter or Transformers. But when we walked into the theater, most of the good seats were already taken, and we were forced to sit in those dreaded “up way too close” seats at the front of the room. But once the movie started, I discovered that if I leaned back in my reclining seat, the view wasn’t so bad. I watched a few minutes of the movie in relative comfort, a bit too close perhaps, but nothing I wouldn’t be able to get used to. And then I suddenly felt a weird resistance against the back of my reclined chair – someone behind me had their foot up against it. And this was a stadium-seating theater, by the way – plenty of room between rows. Which meant that whoever was behind me had to be slouching in their chair and all stretched out to reach the back of my own seat. So I did what anyone else would do in this situation – I began to randomly rock back and forward in the seat, in an effort to dislodge the offending slacker…
And eventually, it seemed to have worked. I no longer felt the resistance of a foot on the back of my seat as I reclined to watch the movie. Satisfied, I settled into my chair and allowed my arms to flop against my armrests. Rick was sitting to the left of me, but the chair on my right was empty – so I felt I had the privilege of using my entire right-hand armrest. At one point, however, I felt a strange rubbery sensation on the back of my elbow, and glanced over at my armrest. The offending sloucher behind me had stuck one of her feet on MY armrest. Well, this was even less acceptable than a foot on the back of my chair. So once again, I employed a subtle de-footing technique – I “accidentally” allowed my elbow to bump the foot aside, and finally, at last, my personal space was completely devoid of interlopers. Victory was mine! I was able to watch the rest of the movie in peace, having successfully delivered my message to the annoying movie-goer behind me.
But now, as I sneeze and cough and hope I will soon be able to once again enjoy the scent of movie-theater popcorn, I can’t help but wonder – what sorts of germs were lurking on that ratty old sneaker that repeatedly brushed against my elbow? Who knows where that foot had been before it decided to prop itself against my arm? Am I supposed to remember to lug around a can of Lysol with me every time I head to the theater? And exactly how many OTHER people had lounged against that armrest? That theater was probably crawling with viruses and bacteria… in fact, I should be glad I don’t get sick EVERY time I go to a movie…
Of course, I can’t PROVE it was the Armrest Shoe that made me sick… I suppose it could’ve been just about any random doorknob in any random place I’ve been the last few weeks. But that person behind me at the movie was just annoying. And so I choose to blame the Armrest Shoe… let that be a lesson to everyone to be more considerate of your fellow movie-goers. Don’t stick your feet on the chair in front of you if someone is sitting there. Personally, I would’ve thought that was common sense. And common sense, as we all know – unlike the sense of smell and taste – is unaffected by the common cold…
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