If you’ar an assiduous reader of this blog (and, come on, you’re not – I’m not even an assiduous reader of this blog), you may remember a character by the name of the Trumpeter, so nicknamed on account of her prolific farting. (Which, by the way, has not abated. Why should it?) This morning, I get to work and walk into the staff kitchen to put lunch in the fridge. The Trumpeter is futzing with something, so I keep my head down and try to avoid making too much noise. Alas, she heard the scuffle of my shoes...
Me:…
Trumpeter: Good morning!
Me: …morning…
Trumpeter: How are you?
Me:…fine…you?
Trumpeter: Well, I’m not sure if it was physical therapy last night or not, but I seem to have a strain in my kidney area!
Me:…
Trumpeter: Since it could be a kidney infection, I’m doubling up on the cranberry juice.
Me:…good, uh, luck. With that.
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