On Sinuses
My sinuses are bad, like Darth Vader.
They dress in black and ride a pale horse. They’ll ask if you’ve gained a little weight right when you’re feeling pretty good about yourself. They won’t laugh when you say something really funny. Buy you a self-help book for your birthday. They are the most evil sinuses in the multiverse and they are mysterious in their ways. For no discernible reason, they descend on black wing and transform my head into a slushy, congealing sac of misery.
I plague my wife with my theories for the most recent onset:
“Whenever the seasons change I’m doomed.
“It might be because I haven’t had a steak in awhile. That usually sets them off.”
“I should know better than to wear Gingham, it’s an obvious trigger.”
“There was a squirrel on the fire escape earlier, that’s probably it.”
Rachelle always pulls out her phone and begins to play Angry Birds when I launch into such analysis. She’s just not a very helpful woman.
No matter, the other day while wandering through Chinatown I stopped into an Herbalist and Acupuncture place and asked the guy working the counter if he had anything that would help.
“Acupuncture no good. You need to do it constantly. I can see you have it bad, you have big face but small body, and it clear you have no money to do acupuncture all the time. I get you something.”
Insulted, but relieved that I didn’t have to become some acupuncture hippy, I stood and waited, a video of Cher singing “If I Could Turn Back Time,” playing improbably from the TV set behind the counter.
When he returned he handed me what looked to be a baggy full twigs and other dried things.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“Cure for your sinuses. It work great.”
“Yes, but what’s in the bag.”
“Herbs.”
“What sort of herbs?”
“It is secret.”
“It looks like you just went to the back room, swept some stuff off the floor, dumped it in this ziplock bag and are now trying to sell it to me.”
“You very ethnocentric man. You prefer me to give you pill full of chemical things you know nothing about?”
“Yes, yes I do.”
“I get you red pills. You wait here.”
Feeling like I had just bought some magic beans I took the subway home humming Cher songs. I then took two red pills as I had been instructed. After about an hour my life changed. I was thinking clearly and full of energy. I did a few dishes, looked for an old baseball hat I had forgotten all about and took our dog for a walk. Honestly, I hadn’t felt so revitalized and alive in years! I shoplifted from the corner store ( a longstanding dream of mine), wolf whistled at a high school girl, and then wrote three angry emails to people who had disappointed me.
I tell you, these red pills are awesome.
Taste a bit like cherry.
