Friday, January 15, 2010
2010 Questions/Answers Installment 1
Scott's Tip Of The Day: From time to time I get feedback from my readers. I like feedback. I like questions. Email me anytime (email@example.com) I received the following email the other day:
So, I was reading your sinus infection post, and I have one small suggestion: Snort vinegar. You see, I have the nose of a bloodhound, or a snake, or something. My sense of smell is so keen it disrupts my life; sometimes I can smell gas before anyone -does- anything! My boyfriend (the source of the smells, sadly) thinks I ought to snort some vinegar to "overpower the nose sensors and eventually killing some off"< isn't he just super-smart? =p. Maybe it would work for you, too! Acidy and pungent, it should be capable of accomplishing something.
Thank you for your advice. Even though we have never met face to face or had any sort of meaningful dialogue, you immediately struck me as a lady who knows what she's talking about. You seem honest, intelligent, sensible....I like the cut of your jib, Jenni. That's why I followed your advice.
I felt that my office was an inappropriate place to snort the vinegar so I bought a bottle and did it on the commuter train home. "All aboard! New York City" I found a seat next to a middle aged woman engrossed in her tawdry romance novel. She had no idea what was in store for her. I opened my bag, cracked open my bottle of Heinz Distilled White Vinegar, placed the bottle up to my right nostril, tipped my head back and took a big sniff.
The following experience was very traumatic. I can only explain it as best as I remember it.....
I start coughing. I can't stop coughing. I'm fighting to breathe. I think some of the vinegar went down the wrong tube. My nose is burning. My eyes are tearing. The force of my coughs become so great I projectile vomit all over the poor lady next to me. I drop the vinegar on the floor of the train. The bottle shatters. The lady next to me is screaming. Everything is in slow motion. The smell of spilled vinegar makes me vomit again, this time on myself. The lady next to me is so grossed out, she barfs on herself.
Other people are staring. An elderly gentleman across the aisle looks over... then he tosses his cookies. There's commotion. A lot of noise. People are yelling. People are staring. I stop coughing but my nose is still burning. I notice it's bleeding. My face is covered in blood. The conductor stomps over. He talks to witnesses, pieces together what went down and becomes enraged. He has the engineer stop the train at the next stop and throws me out.
I walk out onto the track, a bloody, smelly, mess. I call information on my cell phone. "Give me the number to a taxi service in White Plains. Any one will do." I get the number, I call the Taxi. When it arrives the cabbie refuses to drive me in his cab. I protest. "You're covered in blood and vomit, dude. You're not getting in this cab."
I start walking. I walk along the highway... the only way I know how to get home. I don't know the back roads. I don't know this neighborhood, much less all of the neighborhoods I would have to navigate to get back to NYC. After a mile or two on the highway a cop pulls me over. "Sir, I am going to have to ask you to come with me."
I won't go into the details of what happened next. I am not going to tell you about spending the night in jail, or having to appear before the Bar, having my legal license suspended or losing my job. I'm not going to talk about any of that.
All I'm going to tell you, Jenni, is I'm not taking your advice anymore. Okay?