la la la la

Just when I was starting to worry if I had once again accidentally hurt her feelings, my officemate clarified that it wasn’t my nasty remark that caused her to writhe in pain. She was having stomach cramps, some acute menstrual suffering.

“I know someone who isn’t like that at all,” I told her, “in fact, she’s always looking forward to getting her period. It clears up her face apparently.”

“She’s very lucky!”

“I also know someone who is as unlucky as you are. She’s a painkiller-popping girl.”

She cried, gripping my arm.

Over lunch we talked more about menstruation, a topic we discuss at least three times a month.

“Sometimes,” another officemate pointed out, “it could hurt so bad I don’t go to work.”

“At least you have leave credits,” I said.

“When I was confined in the hospital for my back injury,” shared another officemate, “I saw an episode of Oprah where they featured this young girl who couldn’t feel any physical pain. Because of her condition, there was no way for her parents to tell if she was feeling well. She’d bump into objects, bruise herself, and never realize it.”

“How does her family handle it?”

“After hearing the neurologists’ diagnosis of her sickness, her parents trained her to say ‘Ouch!’ whenever she bumped against cows or moving cars or anything. Not for any other purpose but to give her parents a signal to bring her to the doctors for check-ups."

"We’re quite lucky to possess the capacity for pain,” an officemate said, reflection mode. "Imagine going through life without those experiences."

“Yes,” I muttered. "It's great."

why don’t we do it in the road?

Blocks away from home I stopped by the side of the street to look at a girl who literally had to get her head out of the gutter. Some people kiss toilet seats after a mad drinking spree, but this one preferred to swim in the filthy kanal. I parked in front of her—to get a nicer view—but the car lurched, almost hitting her. She looked at me, terrified. “I wasn’t going to run you over,” I yelled, “I was just going to warn you: that’s where scaly animals usually hang out!” “I’m drunk but I’ll be okay. I have friends over there!” She pointed at what appeared to be nothing. I said Okay and went home to mind my own business.