Wednesday, January 16, 2008

Typhoid Vannies

I've had all I can stand and I can't stands no more.

Coughing and other bodily noises have been previously addressed in the Vaniquette post but two of my fellow riders have chosen to disregard this sage advice.

The coughing is out of control. I felt someone cough into the back of my head yesterday and my hair moved. Words cannot appropriately describe my level of irritation and feelings of ickyness.

We're in an enclosed environment, let's try to keep all secretions to ourselves, okay?

Use a Kleenex, shirtsleeve, or a page torn from Generic White Guy's newspaper, I don't care just please, please don't force me to listen to you sucking the mucus from your congested nose down the back of your throat. Grande, Venti - I'm talking to you.

I'm not asking for world peace here, or even for the vannies to while away Sunday afternoons with each other playing Pinochle and swapping marinade recipes, but let's get it together - If you're sick...stay off the van.

Even without the Typhoid vannies, it's been a dreary week here in Houston - cold and rainy. I think I'll conclude this post with the following passage by the Bard himself, fetch myself a cup of coffee, and let the clock run out on today.

I have of late,—but wherefore I know not,—lost all my mirth, forgone all custom of exercises; and indeed, it goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory; this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o’erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire,—why, it appears no other thing to me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. What a piece of work is man! How noble in reason! how infinite in faculties! in form and moving, how express and admirable! in action how like an angel! in apprehension, how like a god! the beauty of the world! the paragon of animals! And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? Man delights not me.

And please don't cough in my hair anymore.

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