I had a horror movie moment at work today. The customers usually stand pretty close to the counter, and I have to use the lower part of the counter to do paperwork. So there I was, paperworking away, while the customer was talking to me, when bam! I got splashed in the eye by a tiny ball of spit. Tiny though it might have been, I felt changes going on inside of me. And I thought, this is Rage. Soon now, the zombie virus will take over and I'll be infected. I'll have to take out as many of them as I can before they come after me with baseball bats!
I paused, considering my first move.
My fingers
twitched ...
But then the moment passed and I realized I wasn't infected with Rage. I was just grossed out.
So I completed the transaction.
Of course, I might simply be resistant. Perhaps, over time, the virus will overtake me and then, at my next day at work, I'll start making strange noises and grunt at the customers. And then, savagely, I will feast!
Feast I say!
On the paperwork that inspires such Rage in me.
The horror ....
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