Friday, May 25, 2007

VILLAGE OF STEEL, VILLAGE OF STEAK

I had a strange fever/flu that took me by storm. The cause was probably just whatever causes a normal fever (I don't really know what that is), but there's a slight possibility that the fever was caused by a cut sustained across the palm of my right hand, which I gave myself with the jagged edge of a plastic fork. "Hey! It looks like the stigmata!" I yelped, and all week, I've been forgetting it's there, then clapping vigorously and paying a painful price for that. Apparently, says one friend, if you don't properly clean a cut like that, you can get a fever. But I doubt that's why I got a fever. Because I cleaned the cut pretty thoroughly with rubbing alcohol.

But back to the fever proper. I stumbled into work late, and just as I got there, they sent me right back home, which was a good thing because I'd already sweated through my clothes and was tremblin' like a fool. It was such an unusual sensation to be out and about during a normal weekday. It's something I haven't experienced in a long, long time. I saw the darnedest things, too. As I quaked and sputtered down my block, a baggie with two plum tomatoes in hand, I looked up to see a man in a tuxedo climbing out of a Rolls Royce. And let's just say there's not usually a Rolls Royce on my block. I would have assumed it was a feverish hallucination, but I tried to rip off the hood ornament when the guy went inside, and it wouldn't budge. (If I were hallucinating, I'm sure the hood ornament would have budged).

Now, a full day later, I'm miraculously fully recovered (the stigmata's still on the mend). And I've got a glorious Memorial Day weekend on the horizon.

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