The Hack

... (Hack)...

... (Hack)...

... (Hack)...

... (Silence)...

I slowly turn my head around in disgust to view the vile being that had been vacating his lungs of a strain of virus that I swear will threaten the existence of all of the persons on the bus. He looks me straight in my eyes and he resumes reading his magazine. If you have read this blog from the beginning, you will be aware that while I tend to express my dissatisfaction for certain behaviors, I have never wished ill-will upon individuals.  

Today that all changed… I now know that the bubbling that I felt deep within my stomach was not the Burger King at the pit stop, but rather the escalating rage that I was feeling for this creature three aisles behind. Why was this beast not locked up in quarantine in some federal lab? Who would be responsible for any sickness that I experience?

ON A SIDE: I just typed the word “responsible” and realized the magnitude of that word with regard to our society. When one is responsible they should be “able to answer for one’s conduct or obligations.” Will this animal on the bus answer for his decision to leave his house and board this bus this morning? Better yet… Based on his symptoms, will he even be around long enough to answer???

You may read this next paragraph and wonder where I am pulling some of this crap from, but bear with me for a while… I am leaving the club at 4:30 in the morning, after a long night of Purple Label, and the occasional shots of patron. Do I get into my Hyundai Excel? Or do I call a cab to take me home? Easy question huh? Then please tell me why someone won’t sit their slimy ass at home when they can’t go for two minutes without hacking a lung out onto the sidewalk?

Again, this will sound awful, so please forgive me… My patron shots puts four people six feet in the ground due to my irresponsibility. On the other hand your hacking sends the world into a panic, shutting down travel destinations, halting world trade, and straining the already fragile health care system. Yes, every life counts… But $2.2 billion taken from a developing country’s GDP is no joke.

NEXT SIDE NOTE: With all of this talk of $800 billion stimulus plans and $1.6 trillion deficits, we may have lost sight of how much money $1 billion actually is.  With the average American making around $40,000/year, how many years at a 5% pay raise will it take for them to hit this magic number? ANSWER:  Never die, or wait for the American dollar to devalue to meet that of Zimbabwe’s.

So why exactly does this guy believe that he should have boarded this bus? Is it an inflated sense of self worth? Or maybe I should give him the benefit of the doubt, and assume that he has a commitment that far outweighs the possibility of placing scores of other people in harm’s way… Actually… Forget it… I will not give him the benefit of the doubt, because given the fact that there are only 793 billionaires in the world today, the chances of him being one of them is significantly lower than the chance of him spreading his disease to all of us travelers.

What are the chances? I asked myself the question as soon as I heard the first cough… But I am sure that the infected beast also asks himself the very question when he feels the mucus tickling his bronchioles… Does he even know that he is sick? Does he want to accept that he is sick? Maybe I have been too hard on him from the very beginning… Can I find a way to justify why my being on the bus would be worth me traveling if there was a chance of me carrying a virulent killer virus?

But that is what we humans do isn’t it? We push the envelope… We take risks… It is engrained in our psyche to believe that we can beat the odds. The minute we begin to doubt ourselves, we lose part of what makes us human. This can’t happen to me… I can’t be the one person to spread this to everyone else can I?

BUT WAIT NAH… 20 minutes later and I finally have mustered up the courage to admit it. I am THAT important… I will take THAT chance… And you CANNOT stop me from doing as I please.  No one can tell me when I should remain at home. It is not anyone’s place to dictate to me my freedom of movement. Don’t you think I have the sensibility to determine my level of health if I make the decision to be in an enclosed public setting? No one should be have the right to look at me with a “stink eye” if I cough, or put their hand to their nose if I sneeze. Are you afraid that I don’t respect you enough to consider that I might be placing you at risk? 

Wow… I’m seeing things through the nasty bus vermin’s eyes now. Maybe it is I who deserved the mean stare, and the thoughts of demise. I repeal all of my thoughts dear sir, for you have a right to be on that bus… You have a right to use your judgment to make decisions that affect other people… No one else but YOU… To hell with everyone else if they don’t understand how small the risk is… Just do you…