The Lung Oyster Saga

I’ve been on the tail end of a chest cold that, at it’s height, was rather nasty.  It still has a slight grip on me but I feel like I’m finally kicking it in it’s crack.  Apparently not entirely though…

My cough is usually worse in the mornings.  Probably has something to do with being horizontal for 5 or more hours.  All the phlegm gets lazy and lungified.  Anyway, I decided to stop for a caffeinated beverage on my way to work this morning.  The Sheetz that I frequent is hopping at this hour with a load of commuters.  As I mentioned, I have all-but kick this cold’s ass.  It’s effects were limited to an occasional single barking throat-clearing cough.  Sometimes I feel them coming.  Sometimes I don’t.

I pulled into the Sheetz parking lot and rolled into a spot next to a newer-model Lexus.  Black.  Shiny.  Normally I don’t notice these details this early in the morning.  However, as I stepped from my vehicle, one of those racking coughs erupted from me.  More like a German Shepherd’s bark than anything.  It was a good one, echoing across the gas pumps.  I felt it in my toes.

Now… as anyone who has experienced a chest cold will tell you, these coughs have a tendency (more often than not) to produce what I like to term “lung oysters.”  In most cases you can contain these goblins without too much public interaction.

This time, not so much.

If you recall, I’m getting out of my car that is parked next to a pretty black Lexus.  As this pesky cough hammered through my chest, I watch in horrific slow motion as a quarter-sized green lung monkey soared across the great divide between me and the Lexus’s passenger window.

Imaging my disgust, are we?  Good!

My disgust is NOTHING compared to the early 50′s-ish lady sitting in the passenger seat.  Lord, she looked quite taken aback.  She had this confused look of WTF.  It was like …well, she looked like someone just hacked a snot-ball onto her Lexus window.

I stood there frozen. I could feel my face turning red.  Tiny beads of sweat popped out on my forehead.    Both of us staring at the jellyfish I just hocked onto her glass.  Immobilized for what seemed like an hour.  This was one of those fight or flight moments.  I could sprint away and dive into one of the store dumpsters.  Hide there until the Lexus departed.  I could get back in my car and bash my head against the steering wheel until I mercifully blacked out.  I could even do the pompous “what are ya gonna do?” shoulder shrug and proceed into the store.

On this particular morning I was feeling guilty and helpful:  A terrible combination.

I reached out, thinking maybe I could grab my snotty little friend.  Like I could hold out my hand, make a clucking sound, and it would jump into my palm like a shiny little Lassie.  I don’t know WHAT the hell I was thinking because all I proceeded to do was smear the glob into a filmy, slimy mess on this poor lady’s window.

“I’m sorry,” I mouthed as I continued to smear in a nervous, jerky gesture.  ”I’mmmmm soorrrrr-eeeeeeeee.”

I could no longer see her face through the lungy haze, but I could sure hear her.  Gasping.  Swearing.  Yelling “why!”

Finally, I realized I was in over my head (yeah, it took that long).  I held up a hand to gesture “hang on…one minute” and I ran into the store.  My goal:  Grab a few napkins and repair the damage my cold had caused.

When I returned, both hands stuffed with Sheetz napkins, the Lexus was speeding out of the parking lot.  All I could mutter was “but…”

If you were the passenger of a black Lexus this morning and you were accosted by a mucus slinging bald dude, PLEASE know that I’m terribly sorry.

Terribly.

Sorry.

 

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