'Nah brah, I ain't fighting this shit.'
Now I am older and theoretically wiser I don't skip the flu jab anymore. I still skip every other appointment the NHS want to offer me (They can take my chocolate, but they can never take my freedom) but they all seem a little redundant compared to being made flu free for the next few months. I don't need to be told I still can't eat sugar every once in a while. Call me in when you've found a cure, then I'll come running.
The best part of today was sitting in a reception and being looked at by all the old people around me who were also there to receive their medical treat.
'What's he doing here?' their eyes said. 'He's too young. He shouldn't qualify.'
They all gathered round in their gaggle and started chatting like they were at Marks and Spencer drinking overpriced coffee on a Monday morning. Some spoke of how their children had done well at work, others of how they'd just painted the garden fence and a lot of how they thought they'd heard the same story somewhere before but weren't quite sure when or who from.
We'd all been given numbers (I was number 7 like David Beckham) and when the time came for us to be made indestructible a nurse came out and shouted, very clearly,
'Numbers 1 to 5 please.'
Obviously I heard her say that because I am young and my ears are relatively fresh and new. Unfortunately no-one else had the same good fortune.
'Did she say number 5?' one woman queried. 'How does that work? Why not number 1?'
This line of questioning created the sort of panic similar to when Swine Flu got blown drastically out of proportion and suddenly people were scrabbling around desperate to find some of solution, some sort of reason as to why the world had treated them in this horribly unfair way.
'Numbers 1 to 5, please!' the nurse shouted again. A row of grey heads turned around and looked at her like she was the devil. How dare she ask for number 5 before numbers 1,2,3 and 4! In their shriveled minds this was as big an injustice as Lance Armstrong winning the Tour de France all those times. One brave woman decided she would make herself the leader of the pensioners and stood up to make her case.
'Excuse me!' she yelled, causing a scene that was totally unnecessary because nothing had actually happened in the real world where people here what other people have really said. The nurse turned around with an inquisitive smile on her face. 'Excuse me!' the leader of the tribe continued. 'But I am number 1, why have I not been called out first?'
The nurse then repeated what she had said the first two times. She said it slowly, she said it clearly, she said it loudly.
'NUMBERS 1 TO 5, PLEASE.'
'Oh!' the tribal leader began to laugh, putting down the pepper spray with which she was about to attack the LYING DEVIL NURSE. 'I thought you just wanted number 5!'
So that was number 1 sorted. She was happy. Alas the nurse hadn't shouted anywhere near loud enough for everyone else in the room to hear her and they suddenly became even more confused to the point where I wanted to kill each and every one of them to put them out of their pathetic misery. It took three more attempts before the correct people actually got up out of their chairs and went to get their vaccine. I hope it didn't work for them, I hope they suffer.
Eventually it came to my turn, which was nice. I heard my number being called, I went and got the jab and you can now sneeze on me all you like because I'm basically a rock. As I left I took one last look over my shoulder at what was effectively a room full of adults with the minds of infants and one thought popped into my head:
Old men have massive ears. Why aren't they using them?
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| The future. |