it's the end of an era. it shames me to admit it...but i'm sick. for those of you who don't have an extensive knowledge of my medical history; i haven't been sick in ten years. my immune system is mystical and ancient in its powers. i don't do anything to enhance it, i don't questions it's strength; i just know that it's there...and it kicks ass.
over the years, upon discovering my little secret, those around me began to grow suspicious of my claim. every winter while everyone is miserably gulping theraflu and munching on cough drops, i'm cheerfully whistling christmas carols through my phlegm-free windpipe. inevitably suspicion would brew into hatred as co-workers began blatantly lowering their hand when coughing into my airspace in a savage attempt to take me down. which to me is comparable to a person with AIDS purposefully cutting their finger and smearing the infected blood on everyone's lips in order to 'even things out'. and so, this went on for years as no one was able to attack my impenetrable hoard of white blood cells.
to further the mystique i would occasionally act as a circus barker; having everyone gather around as i dramatically took a swig from some sickie's water bottle. there would be a single gasp in the crowd followed by manic whispering.
"how does he do it?"
"i heard he has cybernetic lung implants."
"i heard he's from the future."
my illness-free streak soon grew into legend. that is...until i moved to lovely california. as far as i'm concerned, whatever God forsaken virus that has penetrated my system has to be on par with the Bubonic Plague.
put another tally mark under "reasons why i love california".
my 'check engine' light decided to make an appearance last week. that's the one light on the dashboard that causes a knot to immediately form in the pit of my stomach. it induces the same biological response as red and blue lights in your rear view mirror - a queasy dropping feeling followed by a rushing surge of adrenaline.
i think the fear lies in the lack of certainty. all the other warning lights use friendly nudges and reminders.
the oil change light comes on?
okay thanks! i'll get it done next week.
low fuel light? it's cool! there's a gas station down the street. wiper fluid low? not a problem! i've got some windex at home.
but when that 'check engine' light flicks on, you're immediately thrown into a code red situation. it could be anything - engine is currently engulfed in flames, gasoline is spewing onto roadway, radiator has just exploded. am i in imminent danger? should i pull over? will i make it home tonight? it induces such intense anxiety because it's so vague.
yet, once the initial panic subsides, it eventually dawns on you that anything needing repair within the enigmatic "engine" will likely cost anywhere from $800-$8000. perhaps it would be more honest and less jarring if a large green dollar sign was shown on the display instead.
so i decided on a bold course of action; to stand firm and call it's bluff. each day when i turned the key it would illuminate and icily stare me down. "i will not be intimidated by you, red warning lamp! quit looking at me!"
this charade continued for days; until this morning when i turned the ignition. apparently my will was stronger than the Jetta's - the check engine light didn't come on. victory! in man VS machine, the machine blinked. then it occurred to me that it's probably just lying dormant until i'm stuck in bumper to bumper traffic on the 405; at which time it will re-illuminate a millisecond before smoke comes billowing out from under my hood.
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