Read Online Curing the Uncommon Man-Cold by J.L. Salter - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: J.L. Salter
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paused. “Just kidding. Okay. Promise. I guess I was caught up in the science. But we are gonna scare him into thinking mutilation. Wait’ll you see what I found at an obscure market on the east edge of town.”
“Don’t even tell me. I’ll probably have nightmares.” Amanda wasn’t certain how to say this next part, so she used a serious tone and just blurted it out. “By the way, I don’t want you visiting Jason when I’m not there.”
Christine paused before responding. “Uh, I’m not sure if I should be offended…”
“Men act funny around you, ’specially when their girlfriends aren’t present. I just don’t want anything to get complicated. So, no private sessions.”
“I figured you’d be thanking me, Amanda.”
“Maybe I’d thank you if I had been there. But you’re tugging on his nipple when I’m not around… and I worry.”
“Okay, no more day visits.” Christine sighed. “I wasn’t thinking of that other stuff.”
Amanda was a bit rattled that Christine would visit Jason, alone, even if her professed purpose was to energize this bizarre cure. But Amanda wanted it clear that Jason was off limits. She’d made her point, and she was glad it had been by phone. In person, Christine intimidated her slightly more.
“And I promise I won’t apply any more overt punishment.” Christine sighed and then continued her main point. “If we can understand how the male mind suspends rational reasoning during the progression of his debilitating disease, maybe we can replicate it in laboratories. This new program of ours has the potential to eradicate the uncommon man-cold as we know it.”
“That’s something else I wanted to talk about.” Amanda frowned at the phone. “Don’t you think this is going overboard a bit? I mean, these bizarre experiments, and posting all that stuff on the Internet?”
“Look, there’s about 152 million males in the U.S. Let’s say half of them are over twenty-one — approximately 76 million men, give or take. You know some men never get sick… period. Never walk inside a doctor’s office. And the last needle they saw was on a sewing machine.” Christine must have thought this out in advance. “Let’s estimate 10 per cent, but it’s hard to pin down that number because no doctor’s ever seen those guys.”
Amanda was skeptical. “You mean, since their births.”
“Most of them were born at home and maybe even out in their backyards.” Christine sounded very grave. “No doctor’s ever laid eyes on them.”
“Completely off the radar.”
“You should take this more seriously!”
Amanda looked sheepish, even though her expression didn’t transmit through the phone signal.
“That’s nearly 8 million disgustingly healthy males.” Christine likely calculated with her fingers. “Which leaves 68 million men who do get sick some time or other.”
“Okay, to make this a good statistical curve, let’s say the opposite 10 per cent are constantly sick. Always at the doctor, they know first names of the hospital staff, and they can cite chapter and verse on their operations going back fifty years.”
“Chapter and verse. I might use that on the blog.” The audible scratching suggested Christine had paused to write a note. “So, that leaves 60 million in that general core. There’s another 10 per cent who occasionally get sick — like most people — but they pop a few pills, slurp some chicken soup, and get on with their lives.”
“True, but I wish some of those guys would stay home. They bring their nasty germs to work and get everybody else sick. My boss is one of them. Listening to King Louie snort up gallons of snot all day long just drives me bonkers. You know he’s got to be swallowing it all. Never gets rid of it… a really vile form of Yankee recycling.”
“Vivid image and good point. Maybe we’ll strategize on them after we fix Jason’s wagon. But stay focused. We just subtracted another 8 million males who
“Don’t even tell me. I’ll probably have nightmares.” Amanda wasn’t certain how to say this next part, so she used a serious tone and just blurted it out. “By the way, I don’t want you visiting Jason when I’m not there.”
Christine paused before responding. “Uh, I’m not sure if I should be offended…”
“Men act funny around you, ’specially when their girlfriends aren’t present. I just don’t want anything to get complicated. So, no private sessions.”
“I figured you’d be thanking me, Amanda.”
“Maybe I’d thank you if I had been there. But you’re tugging on his nipple when I’m not around… and I worry.”
“Okay, no more day visits.” Christine sighed. “I wasn’t thinking of that other stuff.”
Amanda was a bit rattled that Christine would visit Jason, alone, even if her professed purpose was to energize this bizarre cure. But Amanda wanted it clear that Jason was off limits. She’d made her point, and she was glad it had been by phone. In person, Christine intimidated her slightly more.
“And I promise I won’t apply any more overt punishment.” Christine sighed and then continued her main point. “If we can understand how the male mind suspends rational reasoning during the progression of his debilitating disease, maybe we can replicate it in laboratories. This new program of ours has the potential to eradicate the uncommon man-cold as we know it.”
“That’s something else I wanted to talk about.” Amanda frowned at the phone. “Don’t you think this is going overboard a bit? I mean, these bizarre experiments, and posting all that stuff on the Internet?”
“Look, there’s about 152 million males in the U.S. Let’s say half of them are over twenty-one — approximately 76 million men, give or take. You know some men never get sick… period. Never walk inside a doctor’s office. And the last needle they saw was on a sewing machine.” Christine must have thought this out in advance. “Let’s estimate 10 per cent, but it’s hard to pin down that number because no doctor’s ever seen those guys.”
Amanda was skeptical. “You mean, since their births.”
“Most of them were born at home and maybe even out in their backyards.” Christine sounded very grave. “No doctor’s ever laid eyes on them.”
“Completely off the radar.”
“You should take this more seriously!”
Amanda looked sheepish, even though her expression didn’t transmit through the phone signal.
“That’s nearly 8 million disgustingly healthy males.” Christine likely calculated with her fingers. “Which leaves 68 million men who do get sick some time or other.”
“Okay, to make this a good statistical curve, let’s say the opposite 10 per cent are constantly sick. Always at the doctor, they know first names of the hospital staff, and they can cite chapter and verse on their operations going back fifty years.”
“Chapter and verse. I might use that on the blog.” The audible scratching suggested Christine had paused to write a note. “So, that leaves 60 million in that general core. There’s another 10 per cent who occasionally get sick — like most people — but they pop a few pills, slurp some chicken soup, and get on with their lives.”
“True, but I wish some of those guys would stay home. They bring their nasty germs to work and get everybody else sick. My boss is one of them. Listening to King Louie snort up gallons of snot all day long just drives me bonkers. You know he’s got to be swallowing it all. Never gets rid of it… a really vile form of Yankee recycling.”
“Vivid image and good point. Maybe we’ll strategize on them after we fix Jason’s wagon. But stay focused. We just subtracted another 8 million males who
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