Sunday, November 28, 2004


One of the drawbacks of working in a bar is the germs. It's like being a preschool teacher; you show up clean and healthy, and within moments all the viruses and bacteria from a 100-mile radius have glommed onto you. It makes me glad I only work there once or twice a week. But then again, if I showed up more often, maybe I'd work up a resistance.

After coming down with several unusually nasty colds last winter and spring, I became almost obsessive-compulsive about washing my hands at work. If I had a spare moment, I'd soap up with antibacterial cleanser or dunk my hands in the disinfectant sink. But really, you can only limit your exposure, not do away with it. You are constantly picking up glasses people have drunk out of, not to mention handling their money. As much as I like collecting dollar bills, they live up to their reputation as "filthy lucre." They are disease vectors extraordinaire.

For the last three weeks, I've fought off a different ailment each week. I can usually tell it's coming by Monday or so - sometimes sooner, sometimes later. Two weeks ago it was a slight headache and a sniffle. Last Tuesday it was a raw throat. Neither came to anything (I take pride in this, because it must mean I am fairly strong and healthy). But today my nose is running and I'm wondering if this bodes, er, ill.