On Thursday, two representatives from Burger King came to meet with us to talk about Episode III. One of them had a red nose and puffy eyes, and just as I entered the room I caught her sneezing into a Kleenex and blowing her nose. Then what did she do? She got up and extended her hand. Within 1/4 second, a hundred thoughts ran through my mind, most having to do with how to gracefully decline her hand — but instead, I shook it. Coupled with Jeff and my boss both being sick, it was too much, and now I have a cold.
Watery, itchy eyes. Runny nose. Sneezing. I look like a zombie and feel like one, too.
Thanks, Burger King. Guess you didn’t let me have it MY way.
Beyond that, we also were forced by our head of marketing to go see “The Phantom of the Opera” on Friday, because I had gotten into a public argument with him about the movie. I think it’s a piece of … well … effluence. He thinks its great, and keeps lobbing at me: “Did I tell you what George thought of it?” Yes, Jim, you did — a dozen times. That does not make me like it anymore.
I wanted to be a good sport, though, so I went on Friday. I think that contributed to my illness. What a nightmarish travesty of a “movie.” As Roger Ebert might say, it’s ukelele picks. No, on second thought, even ukeleles would reject that piece of crap.