Just how does one talk comfort-ably about the "C" word?
I swear, it would be easier for me to discuss the detestable word most women don't like to hear. I don't blame them, they don't want the word used to describe them or their privates.
Likewise, it would be very difficult for me to talk about the many forms of cancer that take so many lives.
NO! I'm not going anywhere near either of those sensitive topics!
It came to light only this morning while I was standing in a long line at a bank. A bank line offers one a good perspective if you happen to be a people watcher. On a busy morning, the line to the teller windows can be a showcase of a veritable melting pot of society.
Strange, as different as they all were ahead of me, nearly everyone of them shared the same trait. One thread of commonality bound them like a single entity. The phalanx, winding through the roped off maze, brought to mind the image of the double helix of the structure of DNA.
I shook my head in dismay. Nine of the eleven people queued ahead of me were infected on the cellular level. Those nine each displayed the telltale symptoms. I chanced a backwards glance and was saddened to see several more suffering from the same thing. One and all had a hand to what appeared to be some sort of injury to the sides of their heads.
Upon closer inspection it became clear that they were cupping grotesque "growths" on their ears. If I hadn't known better, I'd have sworn they were nuts because they seemed to be talking to themselves.
There was a sudden familiar chirping from my waist. I sighed forlornly. Alas, I too suffered from the same terrible infliction. I was able to ignore it and thus took satisfaction in the knowledge that I wasn't terminally affected. Unlike those around me, I didn't succumb to it.
Cellularitis - (n.) an inflammation or irritation to the auditory appendages that can only be relieved by the application of a compact cell phone.
Tsktsk, I thought as I noticed one woman being agitated by the teller who had the audacity to interrupt her cell phone conversation to ask her what denominations she'd like her money. The man who was next in line looked astounded that the person behind him would tap him on the shoulder while he was talking to his girl friend. It didn't matter that the person was only trying to tell him that a teller had asked for the next person in line, which he hadn't heard.
Whether in banks, stores, or movie theaters; whether walking or driving, it is spreading unchecked. While I have no proof positive, I daresay that there are probably some who make love while talking on these devices.
I doubt it will happen anyways soon, but there will come a day when they will finally find a cure for this "C."
I think I know how they will cure this thing. They will surgically place implants in our heads which will serve as both a receiver and a speaker. I can see it now. When ever someone in that near future says he or she hears voices in their heads, not one person will think them mad. "So? What's your point?"