newyorkette

^{(photo: a hypothetical variant that we could call Rhinovirus Littlesnoticus)}

Lying here aching and sweating, unable to breathe through my “dose” (that’s rhinovirus for “nose”), I have come up with a solution so that others may avoid similar, needless suffering. With a little genetic engineering, we can arrange things such that whenever someone catches a cold they develop a colorful, striking pattern across their face. Like plaid, or gingham, paisley, or florals, what have you. The more severe the cold, the tackier and more tasteless the pattern. For example, a really awful cold would cause that poor excuse for bourgeois taste, that awful beige Burberry Plaid to be appear all over your face.

Hopefully anyone with a shred of dignity would be too ashamed to leave their house looking so inopportunely BCBG, as they say in Paris. (Especially if they already wear Burberry—that would lead to overkill.) But if they were hardy (or tasteless) enough to appear publicly in such a state, it would still work to society’s advantage.

For example, let’s say you see someone making to sit next to you on the subway. She’s sniffing, coughing, oozing, wheezing, a snotty crust clinging to the edge of her nostril. But she has a distinctive floral-printed face that you recognize: you’ve had that cold already. You’re immune now. You make room for her. You might even offer her a sip of your coffee, nice person that you are.

In another scenario, someone at the office is asking to borrow your pen but he’s got big grey, female rhinoceri in heat (don’t argue with me, see plural of rhinoceros here) printed all over his face. You lock your pen in your desk drawer and tell him, aw, gee, sorry! You forgot your pen at home. That rhinoceros print is the symptom of the mother of all colds: Rhinovirus motherfuckerus. No, thank you.

You hide your pen because everybody knows that colds are caught by touching things that other people with colds have touched, and then touching our noses or eyes. (You didn’t know that? Now you do!) And I happen to know, in my heart, that germs, once on our fingertips, send telepathic messages to us, along these lines:

Scratch your nose… scraaaaaaaaatch youuuur noooooooooooose. Come on.
Scratch your nose, scratch your nose, scratch yer nose…. yes, yes… yes… YES! your nose!
Yes, your nose, it’s kind of itchy isn’t it? Is that a bit of dust? An eyelash? It tickles? Just scratch it!
Oh yeah, that feels good, doesn’t it?

Now you’ve done it!

When someone is on the mend, their gaudy pattern would gradually become more tasteful, maybe turn into my favorite Virginia Johnson print, or perhaps a nice sailor stripe, finally fading away completely till they have their face back.

To anyone else out there who has caught this cold (I’ve dubbed it the “garment district summer cold,” as so far only people at my appointments around 40th and 7th avenue, and subway riders on the 1 train boarding at Times Square at the 40th street entrance seem to have it): get well soon!

(Now if I could only solve the Middle East crisis….)

Posted Wednesday, July 26th, 2006 at 6:00 am under NYC, etc.. Feel free to trackback from your own site. All images on newyorkette.com are the intellectual property of Carolita Johnson, and you must ask (and receive) express permission to use them or reproduce them in any way whatsoever.