LJ Idol, Week 8
While I can’t say exactly where it originated, I was able to track a substantial amount of its history. The lengths that it has traveled, honestly, is quite impressive. It only seems fair, whilst it is in my possession, that I detail some of that history.
Somewhere in the Chicago area, this guy named Tony had it. Where he got it from, I don’t know. Its timing was rather unfortunate though, as he had spent the last few days preparing for a date. This, of course, was not just a date but rather a date with the one and only Ramona. The same Ramona he had secretly fantasized and thought about for months as he watched her behind the counter of the café where he got his morning coffee. It had taken every one of his nerves to finally ask her out.
Now, on the night of the date, he found himself bedridden and completely unable to go on this date. Worse yet, he didn’t have so much as a phone number to reach her. He recalled how her usual expression of contempt had barely left her face when she agreed to the date in the first place.
“Are you paying?” she asked.
“Of course,” he replied.
“Fine. Tell me where and when.”
Okay, so maybe she had a bad attitude. But, he figured, with just the right amount of charm and friendliness, maybe she’d end up cracking a smile by the end of their date. No. That wasn’t going to happen now. He was stuck in bed, and when he wasn’t in bed he was in the bathroom. He couldn’t call her and he certainly couldn’t make it to The Red Dog in this condition. What to do? Call the bar? Or, perhaps, just find a new café to get coffee in from now on.
He remained in his bed until the next morning when he opened the door to his apartment to fetch the paper. This was when he happened to encounter his neighbor, Ms. Lang, on her way out of the complex on her way to the airport.
“You don’t look so good, Tony,” she said in that detached manner she always seemed to have.
“Thanks.”
He had passed it on, and she took it with her to the airport. It’d be another day before she found herself bedridden as well, thus missing out on the important meeting she had flown to New York City for. Within this day, though, she managed to pass it on, herself, to a man she asked for directions from.
That man, Gerry, brought it with him to his daughter’s high school, where he was to meet with her principle concerning recent incidents involving “poor behavior.”
“Mr. West,” said the principle Mr. Carver to Gerry, “this isn’t the first time we’ve met this school year under these pretenses.”
“No, Mr. Carver, it isn’t,” said Gerry, feeling a vague sense of déjà vu from when he had been interrogated by a principle when he was a student.
“Just so we’re on the same page here, you don’t find it acceptable for your daughter to call her teacher a…” he glanced down the paper on his desk, “’waste of perfectly good oxygen,’ do you?”
“No, of course not,” Gerry said, trying his best to contain his desire to burst into laughter. A waste of perfectly good oxygen? That was pretty funny, he thought. Where did she come up with that?
They talked the matter over for a while, complete with Mr. Carver re-explaining things that they had discussed in their last meeting in this office. It ended with a friendly handshake, one in which Gerry had passed on what he was carrying with him to Mr. Carver.
Mr. Carver unwittingly gave it to another teacher, Miss Watson, the next day. She passed it on to a few students in the following 36 hours, including William, Sara, Shane and even Toby (whom Miss Watson assumed had the constitution of a war horse, considering how he had yet to miss a day of school, despite how much she wished for just one day of reprieve from his bratty mannerisms).
It would be Shane who’d later pass it on to his girlfriend, Lara, who would then pass it on to Marcus, the other guy she had been kissing behind the bleachers when Shane wasn’t around. Marcus, of course, passed it on to his actual girlfriend, Lacey. It should be noticed, though it’s relatively unimportant to the overall story, that Marcus was developing a complex over the fear of calling Lara the name Lacey and vice versa.
Lacey gave it to her brother Tom after drinking out of the wrong cup at home. There was a good possibility that the path could’ve ended there, as Tom was a bit of a shut in, and rarely left the house except when he went to the local video game store. Even then, his mother was usually pretty accommodating in picking up what he wanted if he asked her nicely and promised to bring the trash out. Getting disability payments from slipping and falling down the stairs at his last job at the retail store was one of the best things that had ever happened to him.
As fate would have it, though, his mother would be running late on this afternoon, as she had claimed to have some errands to run. The truth was that she was going to her doctors for results on that biopsy that she had performed last week, but there wasn’t anyone who knew about that either. Back to the point, this meant that Tom would have to go to the Game Depot himself to pick up his copy of Gunsanity VIII.
It was at Game Depot that he would pass it on to the clerk, Amy, who would then give it to her boyfriend Lucas. Lucas would give it to Ray, Charles and Alex, but only because they were on duty that night together at the fire station.
Alex would then give it to his friend that they called Chesapeake Pete (for reasons that we do not have time to detail in this story). Chesapeake Pete brought it with him when he traveled to Philadelphia and gave it to his daughter-in-law, Rebecca, whom he had come to visit.
“How is my good-for-nothing son treating you?” he asked Rebecca, half jokingly.
“He’s fiiiine,” she said, drawing out fine so that it sounded either completely sarcastic or so obvious that he shouldn’t have bothered asking. He didn’t know which it was, though.
She was a waitress, and she served me my hamburger.
“Are you feeling alright?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she replied, faking a smile. “Why do you ask?”
“You don’t look good.”
“Oh…well, yeah, I’m fine.”
She didn’t look fine. She shouldn’t have served me my hamburger. Likewise, I shouldn’t have eaten that hamburger. She did, though, as did I. Unknowingly, she had passed it to me.
The next day I was going to my car when I found that my neighbor had blocked me into my driveway with her car.
“Mrs. Mitchum, if you could just move your car, I’d really appreciate it. I just don’t want to be late for work.”
“There’s plenty of room to get around me,” she said, pointing out into our shared driveway.
“If I drive on the grass, maybe.”
“There’s plenty of room!” she said again, slamming the door in my face. This was the first time I could feel it. A swelling in my chest. My throat feeling sore. A headache was developing. I put the back of my hand up against my head and felt it. It was feeling pretty warm. I suddenly barked out a string of coughs. Maybe, I thought, I should call out of work instead of dealing with this.
Not before I did one last thing.
I knocked on her door again.
“Yes?”
“Mrs. Mitchum, I’m sorry, that was rude of me before. You can leave your car right there, where it is. I grabbed her hand and shook it, before turning and leaving to go back to my couch where I’d get a nice warm blanket.
With luck, I’ve passed it on.
Somewhere in the Chicago area, this guy named Tony had it. Where he got it from, I don’t know. Its timing was rather unfortunate though, as he had spent the last few days preparing for a date. This, of course, was not just a date but rather a date with the one and only Ramona. The same Ramona he had secretly fantasized and thought about for months as he watched her behind the counter of the café where he got his morning coffee. It had taken every one of his nerves to finally ask her out.
Now, on the night of the date, he found himself bedridden and completely unable to go on this date. Worse yet, he didn’t have so much as a phone number to reach her. He recalled how her usual expression of contempt had barely left her face when she agreed to the date in the first place.
“Are you paying?” she asked.
“Of course,” he replied.
“Fine. Tell me where and when.”
Okay, so maybe she had a bad attitude. But, he figured, with just the right amount of charm and friendliness, maybe she’d end up cracking a smile by the end of their date. No. That wasn’t going to happen now. He was stuck in bed, and when he wasn’t in bed he was in the bathroom. He couldn’t call her and he certainly couldn’t make it to The Red Dog in this condition. What to do? Call the bar? Or, perhaps, just find a new café to get coffee in from now on.
He remained in his bed until the next morning when he opened the door to his apartment to fetch the paper. This was when he happened to encounter his neighbor, Ms. Lang, on her way out of the complex on her way to the airport.
“You don’t look so good, Tony,” she said in that detached manner she always seemed to have.
“Thanks.”
He had passed it on, and she took it with her to the airport. It’d be another day before she found herself bedridden as well, thus missing out on the important meeting she had flown to New York City for. Within this day, though, she managed to pass it on, herself, to a man she asked for directions from.
That man, Gerry, brought it with him to his daughter’s high school, where he was to meet with her principle concerning recent incidents involving “poor behavior.”
“Mr. West,” said the principle Mr. Carver to Gerry, “this isn’t the first time we’ve met this school year under these pretenses.”
“No, Mr. Carver, it isn’t,” said Gerry, feeling a vague sense of déjà vu from when he had been interrogated by a principle when he was a student.
“Just so we’re on the same page here, you don’t find it acceptable for your daughter to call her teacher a…” he glanced down the paper on his desk, “’waste of perfectly good oxygen,’ do you?”
“No, of course not,” Gerry said, trying his best to contain his desire to burst into laughter. A waste of perfectly good oxygen? That was pretty funny, he thought. Where did she come up with that?
They talked the matter over for a while, complete with Mr. Carver re-explaining things that they had discussed in their last meeting in this office. It ended with a friendly handshake, one in which Gerry had passed on what he was carrying with him to Mr. Carver.
Mr. Carver unwittingly gave it to another teacher, Miss Watson, the next day. She passed it on to a few students in the following 36 hours, including William, Sara, Shane and even Toby (whom Miss Watson assumed had the constitution of a war horse, considering how he had yet to miss a day of school, despite how much she wished for just one day of reprieve from his bratty mannerisms).
It would be Shane who’d later pass it on to his girlfriend, Lara, who would then pass it on to Marcus, the other guy she had been kissing behind the bleachers when Shane wasn’t around. Marcus, of course, passed it on to his actual girlfriend, Lacey. It should be noticed, though it’s relatively unimportant to the overall story, that Marcus was developing a complex over the fear of calling Lara the name Lacey and vice versa.
Lacey gave it to her brother Tom after drinking out of the wrong cup at home. There was a good possibility that the path could’ve ended there, as Tom was a bit of a shut in, and rarely left the house except when he went to the local video game store. Even then, his mother was usually pretty accommodating in picking up what he wanted if he asked her nicely and promised to bring the trash out. Getting disability payments from slipping and falling down the stairs at his last job at the retail store was one of the best things that had ever happened to him.
As fate would have it, though, his mother would be running late on this afternoon, as she had claimed to have some errands to run. The truth was that she was going to her doctors for results on that biopsy that she had performed last week, but there wasn’t anyone who knew about that either. Back to the point, this meant that Tom would have to go to the Game Depot himself to pick up his copy of Gunsanity VIII.
It was at Game Depot that he would pass it on to the clerk, Amy, who would then give it to her boyfriend Lucas. Lucas would give it to Ray, Charles and Alex, but only because they were on duty that night together at the fire station.
Alex would then give it to his friend that they called Chesapeake Pete (for reasons that we do not have time to detail in this story). Chesapeake Pete brought it with him when he traveled to Philadelphia and gave it to his daughter-in-law, Rebecca, whom he had come to visit.
“How is my good-for-nothing son treating you?” he asked Rebecca, half jokingly.
“He’s fiiiine,” she said, drawing out fine so that it sounded either completely sarcastic or so obvious that he shouldn’t have bothered asking. He didn’t know which it was, though.
She was a waitress, and she served me my hamburger.
“Are you feeling alright?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she replied, faking a smile. “Why do you ask?”
“You don’t look good.”
“Oh…well, yeah, I’m fine.”
She didn’t look fine. She shouldn’t have served me my hamburger. Likewise, I shouldn’t have eaten that hamburger. She did, though, as did I. Unknowingly, she had passed it to me.
The next day I was going to my car when I found that my neighbor had blocked me into my driveway with her car.
“Mrs. Mitchum, if you could just move your car, I’d really appreciate it. I just don’t want to be late for work.”
“There’s plenty of room to get around me,” she said, pointing out into our shared driveway.
“If I drive on the grass, maybe.”
“There’s plenty of room!” she said again, slamming the door in my face. This was the first time I could feel it. A swelling in my chest. My throat feeling sore. A headache was developing. I put the back of my hand up against my head and felt it. It was feeling pretty warm. I suddenly barked out a string of coughs. Maybe, I thought, I should call out of work instead of dealing with this.
Not before I did one last thing.
I knocked on her door again.
“Yes?”
“Mrs. Mitchum, I’m sorry, that was rude of me before. You can leave your car right there, where it is. I grabbed her hand and shook it, before turning and leaving to go back to my couch where I’d get a nice warm blanket.
With luck, I’ve passed it on.