It started with my special girl, who is vaccinated and boosted, having a sore throat on a Sunday. I felt fine. So fine that I went over to a friend’s house. He makes his own beer, and is constantly after me to drink it. This sort of invite is tough to resist, so I went over there and yacked it up with him and a couple other guys over his homemade suds. He mentioned that he had been to a pig roast hosted by a Chinese friend of his the day before. I told that to my girl, who is Jewish, as is Mike.
“He is the world’s worst Jew,” my girl said. “Going to a pig roast on Shabbos?”
“Judgmental much?” I replied, because personally, I think the world’s worst Jew is Bibi Netanyahu. But we didn’t get into that argument, because her sore throat was worse and I was dispatched to find a Covid test for her. After trips to three different drugstores wearing my newly acquired KN95 mask, which are said to be the best masks even though I think everyone wearing one looks more or less like a duck, I located a couple of home Covid tests. After she took the tests on consecutive days, she announced that she did not have the virus. Her temperature was 99, but that’s normal for her. She’s a hot chick.
Along about Thursday, I began to feel a little weird. On Friday I had a cough and a runny nose. I took my temperature and it was 99. That’s a fever for me, because I usually run at about 97.7.
I’m a cool guy.
The fever went away by the next day and I was left with just the cough and the runny nose. I wouldn’t have bothered with a Covid test at all if I hadn’t been scheduled for a colonoscopy on Wednesday. Those of you who have enjoyed one of those know that you have to drink a gallon of human Drano before the procedure, and I wasn’t about to do that, just to go to the hospital and have them say, “You’re positive for the Omicrud, bra. Go home. Pick up another couple quarts of diarrhea seltzer on your way home, and we’ll try this again in a few weeks.”
So, I scrounged up another test. It wasn’t easy. I got it from a guy who would be my stepson-in-law if I was actually married to my girl and her daughter was actually married to him. So, complicated relationship. He had gotten the test from his employer. It was the best test on the market, a battery-powered beauty. It was guaranteed to produce an accurate result in fifteen minutes.
Well, it didn’t take nearly that long for the light to flash positive. I was officially the several hundredth millionth victim of the virus worldwide. My girl instantly analyzed the chain of transmission, because placement of blame is important to her. “You got it from Mike and he got it from that pig roast,*” she said.
“Maybe it would work that way if it was a Chinese bat roast,” I said. “I got it from you.”
“But I was negative.”
“You just didn’t do the test right. You’ve got to find the sweet spot in your snot,” I told her.
“You got it from Mike,” she said.
“You got it from the Door Dash guy.”
So that’s the argument that’s kept us amused as we huddle in the house. I’ve never been an anti-masker or an anti-vaxxer, so there’s no need for me to go the hospital and announce to all the people I bad-mouthed Fauci to that, now that I have oxygen tubes running into my nose, I’ve changed my mind. I will never be a candidate for the Herman Cain Award, so there’s no need for me to hop on a ventilator.
I’ve had far worse colds. As soon as my free test from Uncle Joe arrives, I expect it to be negative. I’ll be over the ‘cron. Not going to Disneyland, though.
It’s warmer in Mexico.
*Mike feels fine.