musings from a FrienDly Coworker:
This is a bedtime story for you, as in I’m writing it from my bed…
Once upon a time, there was a girl with beautiful skin. The skin was so lovely, it came with a special curse and she was allergic to everything. She soon discovered that Cortizone steroid creams were good friends of hers and that band-aids were her worst enemies. At age 12, she cut her toe on a chair at a Renoir exhibition and the medic bandaged it up rather than have her make her own bloodied Impressionist art on the tiles of the gallery. The result was so severe, she was housebound with fiercely itchy, lumpy toes filled with clear liquid, while all her friends went on a special tour of Sydney and Canberra.
The girl grew into a woman, who enjoyed a variety of delicious foods, yet had never sampled cheese of the blue variety. She celebrated her first, well-deserved holiday from high school teaching, with a cheese platter containing a strong, mouldy chunk. She found it delicious and ate it with gusto, only to spend her vacation covered from head to toe in hives. Her kindly grandmother, now deceased, gave her some anti-drowsy, anti-histamine tablets. She took one and spent three days comatose and with drooling slack jaw.
This fresh-faced woman had been raised to keep the kashrut and had never tried anything with an exo-skeleton. There had been one time her Jewish friend had popped a tiny prawn in her mouth, but she had assumed the vomiting which occurred afterward was as a result of G-d smiting her from above (that and a combination of red wine and New Zealand vodka and driving around and around in circles in someone’s car).
This protagonist found herself at a sushi restaurant in Florentin. Against better judgment, she ordered from the menu, though wary of the rastafarian gentleman making the food and his unrefrigerated, bacteria-laden seafood. Even as she popped the innocuous sushi in her mouth, she pre-empted food poisoning. Her dining companion suggested she finish the last two from her larger plate, and thinking it was tuna inside, the skin-allergic woman popped one in her mouth. Many hours later, she discovered she had eaten crab in some form.
The protagonist, slightly tipsy and red in the face, walked from a Beatles-themed party in Yaffo to the centre of the city, sweating and whimpering as she scratched her skin. She passed out as soon as she returned home and woke up to vomit extraordinary amounts of bile. Her lips had swollen slightly, being the only positive, as lip enhancements don’t come cheap.
Knowing that the secret to a rich, fulfilling and painless life was to avoid bandaids, blue cheese and shellfish, she lived happily ever after.
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