Day 556 - People on the Bus

In 2008 I wrote the following thinking, hey, I should start a blog! This was the only entry! Lesson...I give up far too easily. Without further ado, the post no one asked for or probably ever read - completely unedited! Enjoy!


Every day I ride the bus to and from work. It’s cramped and usually uncomfortable, but it’s convenient and cheap. I find people watching unavoidable.

Hey look, there’s the lecherous drunk guy who details his sexual exploits to everyone on the bus! And over there, it’s the crazy guy who repeats the same nonsensical sentence over and over and over! And in the back, there’s those junior high school girls I’m terrified of, celebrating the latest ass beating they just handed one of their enemies at the playground!

Some days are more exciting than others. Today I saw someone less explosive, but no less interesting. I haven’t seen him in at least a few months. This is man in his forties, lunch bag in hand, NBA on NBC hat on head. Not once have I seen this man without this hat. This hat looks, or quite possibly is, brand new. I have no idea where one might get a new NBA on NBC hat, but I hope that John Tesh has an entire closet full of them. It’s really a shame if he doesn’t.

Does he clean it compulsively? Is it that special? If so, why? Does he just really miss the NBA on NBC? Is this a silent protest? Maybe this is one of those, ship the “Chicago Bears: Super Bowl XLI Champs!” tshirts to Ghana and perhaps no one will see them kind of thing.

If anyone else was playing people-on-the-bus today, I would be right-side-of-a-fat-lip-guy. Did he get in a fight? Is it a cold sore? Is it infectious? Let’s move down a seat.

Sadly, it was none of these things. I seem to have an allergy to – of all things – corn.

When I was a kid my parents took me to an allergy doctor, a petite aging Scot, Dr. Maggie Burke. Dr. Burke tested me against all sorts of contact allergens – mold dust, plants, animals, you name it. To summarize, the wee doctor pricked my arm with the allergen to be tested, waited half an hour, and measure the size of the bump on my arm as compared to a control bump containing no allergen.

At the end of my appointment, arms covered in obscene welts, I moped back to the exam room. In many cases it was difficult to discern where one bump ended and the other began.

“Looks like you’re allergic to everything. You should avoid the outdoors. You’ll need to come in every week and get some shots”. Nothing says cool like weekly allergy shots and an order to avoid leaving the house.

As a rule, I’ve always approached allergies with a grin-and-bear-it approach. “Hey, this is pretty uncomfortable, but I can sort of breath. At least I’m not dead”. This served me well for activities such as mowing the lawn, petting the neighbor’s cat, or going outside in the fall.

Peanuts, however, are a different animal. You know that thing that happens to people that touch Rogue when she’s not wearing flapper gloves? That’s pretty much me after accidentally eating peanuts, things made out of peanuts, or things that touched things made out of peanuts. I can’t breathe and it feels as though something is actively sucking the life out of me. Sadly, this does not pass on my allergy to others for their own personal enjoyment.

As I had never actually been tested for food allergies, Emily suggested that I be examined once more. What if I wasn’t allergic to peanuts at all? Was this completely in my mind? Did I even want to know? It is perfectly fine to have a body that attacks a Snickers bar with extreme prejudice. It is not perfectly fine to have a mind that tells your body that said Snickers bar is deadly poison and deserves a world class freak out reaction. And also, if it turned out that I wasn’t allergic to peanuts, should I just start eating them? After enough pestering, I agreed to set up an appointment.

This involved a similar skin test, this time on my back. My entire back looked much like my arm, as if it was attacked by a swarm of angry mosquitoes hungry for human blood. Each bump received a score from zero to four – zero being “fine, go ahead and eat it” and four being “may as well be cyanide”.

Peanuts. Four.

Huzzah! I’m not crazy! But there was more.

Almond. Three.

Brazil Nut. Four.

I always thought that I was also allergic to other nuts, the test seemed to bear this out. The doctor gave me a list, essentially a food family tree. The idea being that if you were allergic to one food, you were probably allergic to other closely related foods. Interestingly enough, peanuts are actually more closely related to legumes than they are to other nuts. So, if you’re allergic to peanuts, you would be more likely allergic to soybeans than say pecans. I think of it as comparing chimps to humans and monkeys. Chimps my look like they’re more closely related to monkeys than they are to humans, but they are not.

Hazelnut. Three.

Pecan. Four.

Cashew. Zero.

WTF, I can eat cashews? Do I even want to?

Chicken. Two.

Potato. Two.

Corn. Two

At this point, I’m dismissing everything that’s not a nut. Chicken? Really? I eat chicken all the time! Corn!! Potato!!! Is there any food more simple than a potato? How can I be allergic to a freaking potato? This is crap. I’m eating whatever I want.

Fast forward to now. Lately, I had this sneaking suspicion that the corn chips I love were conspiring to kill me. I’d eat them and then my mouth was itchy and my stomach uncomfortable. Too bad stomach and mouth. I still love you Tostitos.

Last week, I made some polenta. Shortly after eating it, my face went red and puffy. I looked like Boris Yeltsin. Today, half of my lip swelled to twice its normal size after eating the leftovers. This is a serious problem that demands scientific testing that I’m completely unwilling to do.

So for now, I’d like the people on the number thirty-nine bus to know that I am not one of the crazies to stay away from. Please don’t judge me. I’m helpful, friendly, and uninfected. I just ate some corn. Really, cut me some slack. This is totally not my fault.