Story 460: Extending Summer Forever

(On a park trail)

Friend 1: I’m mad.

Friend 2: Oh dear, what now?

Friend 1: Whaddya mean, “What now?”  I don’t complain a lot.

Friend 2: Ha!

Friend 1: OK, you got me – I complain all the time.

Friend 2: That you do.  So: what now?

Friend 1: (Sighs and gestures at the beauty of nature around them) This.  (Gestures at the two of them) I mean, look at us!

Friend 2: (Looks down without breaking stride) Has something happened that I’m not aware of?

Friend 1: Apparently – we’re wearing long sleeves and long pants, and I can’t stand it!

Friend 2: …Whyyyyy???

Friend 1: Because only two weeks ago we were wearing short sleeves and short pants!  And complaining how hot it was and that we were out here melting!

Friend 2: You certainly were.

Friend 1: That’s beside the point: just because our made-up calendar no longer states “August,” Nature gets it into her head to flip a switch and shut down production!

Friend 2: Other way around, you know: the calendar was made up to reflect the flipping switches of Nature.

Friend 1: Still – two weeks!  And we suddenly have to bundle up in our woolies and watch in helpless horror as all these glorious leaves wither up in beautiful colors and collectively leap to their demise!

Friend 2: (Looks around) Been taking longer and longer to do that each year lately, you notice that?

Friend 1: That’s an unrelated catastrophe; my rant involves the fact that it took forever for us to get to summer, and now, oh well, inexorable march of time marches on, here’s fall all y’all, like it or lump it, and I’m sick of lumping it!

Friend 2: You could always just like it.

Friend 1: Bah!

Friend 2: OK.

Friend 1: I still want to go to the beach!  I still want to have ice cream!  I still want the thrill of the boardwalk!

Friend 2: You still can, you know – those things are around all year long.

Friend 1: Yeah, but not with lifeguards!  Or college-kid-staffed parlors!  Or fireworks!  Or super-long-lines everywhere!

Friend 2: You’re right: some of those’re better this time of year.

Friend 1: You’re no help at all.  It’s also getting too night out too early now.

Friend 2: That, I agree with: I miss sunset being around 9:00 in the evening; now it’s just getting gloomy.

Friend 1: Exactly!  And soon enough, sunset’ll be at 4:30!

Friend 2: Well, by then it’ll be winter so we’ll be hibernating anyway.

Friend 1: Don’t talk to me about winter!  I’m not done slandering autumn yet!

Friend 2: Then by all means, continue.

Friend 1: I’ll switch gears instead: summer means the smell of chlorine, and swimming in tidal waves under teenage supervision, and outdoor concerts, and outdoor dining, and staying up all night long without thought of any consequences, and parties with your friends, and vacation all day long even if you’re not going anywhere, and carefree biking through the neighborhood streets, and living just for the endless day, and, and….

Friend 2: And feeling like a kid again?

Friend 1: (Slows to a stop; Friend 2 does likewise) Is that what this is?

Friend 2: A bit, at least for you – sounds like it’s the one season you can time travel back to when you were happier.

Friend 1: I’m happy now!

Friend 2: I said “happier.”

Friend 1: Oh.  I guess.  Point is, I want it to be summer forever.

Friend 2: (Starts walking again, followed by Friend 1) Well, it can’t: the planet has to continue tilting on its axis back and forth as it orbits the Sun; flora and fauna have evolved to match the seasonal changes throughout the world; and you’ll feel better about everything if you just accept that instead of mentally fighting it all the time.

Friend 1: I guess.  Unless….

Friend 2: What could possibly follow that?

Friend 1: Unless I figure out a way to stop the Earth tilting on its axis and straighten out its elliptical orbit so it’s optimal summer for our part of the world all year, every year, forever and ever, and –

Friend 2: And that’s a supervillain origin story if I ever heard one, you realize that?

Friend 1: Only if I fail!

Friend 2: You can be really bonkers sometimes, I have to say.

Friend 1: (Hastily brushes off several fallen leaves) Maybe, but it’s all in good fun.

Story 459: Allergic to My Own Species

 (In an exam room in Doctor’s office, Patient sits on the exam table, swinging feet gently while waiting)

Doctor: (Enters in a hurry and immediately begins checking Patient’s blood pressure, pulse, and heartbeat) Hi there, how long’s it been – six months?  Deep breath.

Patient: (Breathes deeply) Actually, more like eight years.

Doctor: (Checks Patient’s thyroid) You don’t say; has it really been that long?  Kids all grown up, then?  (Whacks Patient’s knees with a reflex hammer)

Patient: (Kicks at the appropriate times) No kids, just me.

Doctor: Oh sorry, must be thinking about my kids – open up.  (Shines a small flashlight down Patient’s throat while using a tongue depressor, then switches to the ears with a different instrument)

Patient: (Tilting head for each ear) I’ve been all right health-wise, so I haven’t been coming here because I haven’t been sick.

Doctor: (Tsks and shakes head while tying off Patient’s arm with a tourniquet, disinfecting a spot on the forearm, and casually siphoning off a vial of blood) You should always go to your primary care physician at least once a year so we can check if anything nasty’s brewing.  (Labels the vial, takes off the tourniquet, puts a bandage over the new hole, and starts to leave) I’ll call you with the results in a few days – see you this time next year – byeeee!!!

Patient: Wait, I haven’t told you why I’m here yet!

Doctor: (Stops at the door and turns around) So there is something nasty brewing?

Patient: No – well, maybe – it’s just –

Doctor: I’ve got 300 patients to see today, so speed it up.

Patient: I think I have an allergy.

Doctor: (Whips out a prescription pad and starts scribbling) All right, I’ll refer you to an allergist – what kind?

Patient: Umm….

Doctor: Nuts?  Dairy?  Gluten?  Microplastics?

Patient: People?

Doctor: (Stops writing) I don’t follow.

Patient: I’ve noticed more and more lately that I’m feeling terribly allergic to my own species whenever I’m around them.

Doctor: (Slowly lowers arms, then grabs a stool and wheels it over to the table to sit closer to Patient) How so?

Patient: Well, first off, they annoy me.

Doctor: That’s not an allergy; that’s just reality.

Patient: I’m finding I can’t be around them for too long without feeling physically ill.  (Rolls up sleeves) Look at this: I’ve only been around you for five minutes, Doc, and I’m already breaking out into hives!

Doctor: (Takes Patient’s wrists and pulls arms forward slightly to stare at the hives) I’m not sure if I should be concerned or insulted.

Patient: (Rolls down sleeves after Doctor lets go) It’s nothing personal – I’ve been getting this way with everyone lately.  It’s like my skin bursts into boils in a misguided attempt to defend itself.

Doctor: I can give you a cream for it.

Patient: Thanks, that may help, but what about the sounds?

Doctor: Sounds?

Patient: I’m starting to not be able to tolerate any human noises – chewing, talking, breathing – again, nothing personal, but your lip smacking over there is slowly driving me bananas right now.

Doctor: (Pushes lips together for a moment) Sounds – heh-heh, sorry – like you’re describing misophonia: I can refer a therapist to help you with coping mechanisms.

Patient: Thanks, that may help, but what about the sneezing fits I get every time I enter a crowded room?  Or the shakes when strangers get in my face?  Or the racing heart when family and friends get in my face? Or the –

Doctor: (Stands) I hate to cut you off, but most of what you’re describing are signs of a social anxiety disorder rather than an actual allergy.  (Writes on a new page of the prescription pad, tears it off, and hands it to Patient) Here’s a referral for a psychiatrist: go make an appointment and see if you feel any better afterward.

Patient: (Stares at the paper with increasingly red, teary eyes) Oh.  OK.  I’ll try that.  Thanks.

Doctor: (Heads for the door) You’re welcome – I’m off – see you in a year – good luck with the kids – byeeee!!!!  (Leaves)

Patient: (Stares at the door, nose running and red bumps forming on face) But I don’t have any kids….

 ONE WEEK LATER

(On the phone)

Patient: Hello?

Doctor: Hi, this is Dr. --------------, I’m calling –

Patient: Oh hey, Doc!  I went to the psychiatrist and I think it worked!

Doctor: …What?

Patient: Yeah, we talked all about my introverted personality and the state of the world feeding into my general aversion to humanity and how I can come to terms with how awful we all are if I just stop fighting it so darn much, and wow!  What a breakthrough!  It’s still gonna take some time, but at least now I stop feeling overwhelming nausea every time I board the bus, know-what-I-mean?

Doctor: Yeah that’s great – listen, I got the results in on your blood test and you were right.

Patient: How so?

Doctor: You are allergic.  To human beings.

Patient: Huh?

Doctor: You’re even allergic to yourself – I’m flabbergasted you’ve managed to survive this long.

Patient: Uhhhh….

Doctor: I want you to order a hazmat suit immediately and then come back to the office so I can take more blood to examine and either work on getting one of those plastic bubbles for you to live in forever or arrange for you to be shipped to the North Pole or the South Pole or maybe even the Moon so you’ll never encounter another human being ever again.  (Silence on the other end for a few moments) I know this is a lot to take in, especially when you made all that mental and emotional progress –

Patient: When can I leave?

Story 458: Endless Afternoon

“I love afternoons.”

“I’m more of a morning person myself.”

“Nah, I don’t feel rested early enough in the day to be a morning person.  I like getting everything done in the morning, then after lunch have absolutely nothing scheduled until dinnertime, which is preferably after 6:00 so I can maximize that part of the day.”

“Sounds boring.”

“One person’s ‘boring’ is another person’s ‘relaxing.’”

“OK, so what do you do during your maximized leisure hours?”

“What do you mean, ‘do?’  Just what I said earlier, nothing!”

“You can’t do nothing, that’s just staring into space, or sleeping.”

“I do a bit of that – sleeping, that is.  Take a little naptime.”

“Doesn’t that throw off your sleep schedule at night?”

“Eh.”

“So if you’re not working or at an event or whatever in the afternoon, you just fall asleep?”

“Yeah – well, not every time.  I usually watch a movie or play a video game or read – you know, veg out.  It’s all part of my perfect day.”

“You would do that for hours every single day if you could?”

“Heh-heh, more than that.  All day, every day, until the bitter end.  I wish the entire day could be one giant afternoon, to be honest.”

“That’s called ‘idealized childhood.’”

“…Oh yeah.  Whaddya know?”