WHAT WOULD YOU DO

I was going up and down the aisles of the hardware store, knowing what I needed but not finding it. My desire was to paint some outside furniture and I was looking for exterior, bright red gloss. Evidently I wasn't even close. It seemed each shelf only had interior paint.

Being female in a hardware store is sometimes intimidating. Now I am not a delicate flower, use to being pampered by a super handy male but neither am I fluent in hardware speak while sporting a two hammer holster. I'd say I am about a C minus student when It comes to home improvements.

Finally a nice male clerk about my age noticing my bewilderment, approached with the magic words. “Do you need some help?”

I told him of my quest and off he went. I followed him like a faithful puppy down the several aisles till we came upon the exact thing I was looking for. 'Ah, today will be productive after all,' I thought.

I asked him to “shake it up” for me ( Sadly I  was referring to the can of paint ) so we went to the paint shaker and indulged in small talk while the can vibrated. Then it happened. Bless his heart, he started emptying his lungs all over me with a series of violent , starting from the toes, head busting coughs.

The coughing finally eased and he raised his head to look at me with watery eyes. I am sure my own eyes were enlarged beyond the rims of my glasses with  lots of white showing. The desire to display concern for the fellow was fighting fiercely with the desire to flee the building. It had to be written all over my face. I'm a poopy actress.

One thing I learned about the Japanese during their recent ordeal is that if they are feeling ill, they wear a mask in public to protect everyone else. I found this to be amazingly courteous and kind of wish it were a practice here. We are just now learning to sneeze into our elbows. We have a long way to go.

Before you judge me harshly as being overly cautious, remember, I am my own caregiver. I fix the soup, provide cold cloths for my fevered brow, aspirin for pain and hold my own head while I study the bottom of the toilet bowl.  Since I am a cranky patient and a reluctant caregiver, it is in my best interest to remain healthy.

I am not a serious germaphobe but I am careful to avoid the wheezing, sneezing,coughing, blowing types in public. As this poor fellow hacked away, I was very much aware that my immune system was probably collapsing with each breath I drew in. I really tried to avoid breathing and just took tiny sips of air.

“Oh my,” he moaned, “This raw throat and cough are just killing me.” Seeing my eyes get even wider, he quickly added, “Good thing I don't have a fever or I'd have had to stay home.”

I suppose that was meant to assure me that he was not contagious. I desperately wanted to feel his forehead to make sure he still did not have a fever. Maybe he was fever-less this morning, but what about now?

“Perhaps you ought to go to the doctor.” I weakly suggested, still sipping my air while looking in the opposite direction as if searching for something.

“Oh, I will,” he promised, “if I am not better by tomorrow. It has only been a couple of days and I am pretty sure it is allergies.”

Being someone who will go to great lengths not to hurt or offend anyone, I followed him to the front of the store and allowed him to check me out while trying not to treat him like a leper. He then hacked all over my receipt and suggested I have a good day.

In the car I bathed in hand sanitizer and took an overdose of Echinacea when I got home. I do have faith in those pills.  I am pretty sure I dodged the bullet for I am still well and it has been 4 days now. Phew.

Now the question I have for you is, would you have continued to let that man wait on you or would you have bolted for the door at the first hack with some sort of excuse shouted over your shoulder??