|
I don’t mean to complain. Because I’m not the
complaining type. I’ve always said if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything.
Civility is what I’m all about and I can take a lot of pain. But
it’s not good to bottle things up. Sometimes you have to get something off
your chest even if it goes against your grain.
See, I hurt my back. No big deal, nothing I can’t work
around. I just wanted you to know if I’ve been a little curt lately, a little ‘off the
cuff’, that’s why. Probably you haven’t even noticed, but I have, so I
just wanted to let you know what was up and say I’m sorry and I hope the
stains come out, and while it looks like a first degree burn to me which
is no big deal, if you say your Doctor says it’s second, well, he’s the
doctor I’m sure.
The pain’s mostly in my legs, and honestly I don’t even
notice it most of the time, it’s just walking that’s a little hard and standing, and
after a while sitting. But it’s not sharp pain, just dull. Kind of deep,
constant, dull pain, nothing shooting or anything. I’m sure it
hardly compares to a ‘second degree’ burn.
Anyway, I just wanted to tell you by way of explanation,
I’d never have brought it up otherwise and we don’t need to talk about it anymore,
honestly, it’s nothing, embarrassing more than anything else really and
certainly in no way any fault of yours. So lets just drop it, all right?
I mean, you didn’t know, how could you, I never said, and if you didn’t
notice the way I’ve been limping, well, who honestly looks for that sort
of thing in other people?
Plus I’ve got a touch of edema. Oh, it’s nothing, just a
little swelling in the feet, I wouldn’t even know it was happening if the Doc hadn’t
noticed it when I came in for my back. I just thought, you know, maybe
my shoes shrank somehow. They certainly weren’t fitting anymore,
I can tell you that and it’s not like I can afford new shoes with what I get
paid. Or your dry cleaning bill, which I can’t believe you asked me to
pay and I hope you realize is way out of line now that you understand
about my back. I’m sure I’m not the first person to ever throw
a cup of coffee at you, you really out to have found a reliable stain remover at
this point. But that’s just like you, isn’t it? It’s always someone
else’s problem.
You know what, buddy? Until you’ve walked a mile in my
shoes, you can just stow it. My one size too tight, can’t afford another pair shoes.
Because in all friendship, I’m more than a little fed up with your
constant whining. Oh I’m sorry, I’m sorry, mea culpa about a little
goddamn coffee, I am so sorry, sorry I didn’t THROW THE MUG AT YOU, TOO!
Do you think for one instant what I want out of life is
to drag my ass out of bed at quarter to six each morning with my head fit to bust
because God forbid I find a little chat with ‘Old Granddad’ makes a
colicky baby go down a tad smoother at two a.m., and unfortunately I
lack the constitution to SLEEP RIGHT THROUGH IT like the WIFE, MY doctor
won’t PRESCRIBE sleeping pills to treat my ‘exhaustion’, OH NO!!
It’s not as if when my third grade teacher asked us all
what we wanted to be when we grew up, I raised my hand and said "OH! OH! I want to hike
a mile to the commuter rail on a bad back and swollen feet in shoes so
small an eighteenth century Chinese princess couldn’t wear ‘em,
and if I’m lucky the train will be standing room only! I don’t want to be a
fireman like Joey of a fighter pilot like Steve, I want to get trapped
in a mind numbing, soul crushing, dead end CUBICLE FARM and get a
written warning for throwing a little coffee at one of the other
GOD DAMN DRONES!!"
I mean, did you ASK ME?! Did you say, "Hey, there, Max,
I can see you’re reading a book on your half hour lunch, but I was just wondering,
wouldn’t you rather listen to my irritating, reedy voice narrate the
excruciating tediata of my weekend? Aren’t you dying to learn all
about the complex physical workings of my new gas grill on a level of detail
usually reserved for covert military briefings? Or would you rather I
just ate a whole bulb of garlic, climbed up on your chest and did
an amateur ROOT CANAL ON YOU WITH A LOBSTER FORK, A HAMMER AND A CAT
BRUSH?!?"
So anyway, the Doc says I’ll be right as rain in a week
or so, and if not, there’s always a battery of humiliating, painful and mostly
unnecessary tests followed by complicated surgery that may not even
work, but I’m not even thinking along those lines yet, so you certainly
shouldn’t. Honestly, I’m too occupied with my older daughter’s trial to
spend much time worrying about my silly old back, I mean, they charged
her as an adult and she’s only six for gosh sakes. How fair is that?
My point is, being the kind of guy who keeps things to
himself I realize people may have wondered why I was being so cranky lately, particularly
you, what with the coffee and all, so that’s what’s up, and for what
it’s worth if I’ve hurt anybody’s feelings I’m sure I’m
sorry. Now turn around and walk away and if you love your children keep your pie hole
zipped. Because this is the best thermos money can buy. Know what I’m
saying?
Vacuum Sealed Stainless Steel Brutality.
Feelin' lucky?
|
