Clearly, sir, you are an alien and your otherworldly cloaking technology is calibrated to show our primitive medical community only what they expect to see.
In other words, fundoscopic examination is unrevealing in these cases!
Many years ago, the good doctor and I hung out together at the EEP lounge at the University of Washington. Many of y'all are familiar with this location, so I shall not explicate unnecessarily except to introduce the third actor in the drama I am about to relate: Janey, the office manager and receptionist for the EEP. We were a rambunctious lot, and part of Janey's job description was preventing damage to the building and its contents. (I categorically deny the rumours that I had anything to do with Janey's early retirement.)
One fine Spring day, I purchased with my lunch money a bag of water balloons shaped like fragmentation grenades (the classic "pineapple"), and brought them with me to the lounge. Janey instantly decreed that Water Balloons Were An Outside Thing. No problem. I filled a bunch, shared them out with several of the lounge denizens (and yes, we deserved the connotations), and we proceeded to chase each other 'round the yard.
My recollection is fuzzy, but I believe our mutual friend held himself aloof from the proceedings. He didn't leave the vicinity, but he was much more an observer than a participant. I suddenly decided that participation was mandatory--a classic case of the act of observation altering the phenomena being observed. With a balloon in my hand, I began chasing a certain tall redhead. Not wishing to get wet, he ran around the building a couple of times, but couldn't shake me. Finally, he remembered the Rule and, on his next pass, dashed up the stairs into the lobby, where Janey's desk sat. He stopped right next to Janey, such that I could not hit him with the ballon without also hitting Janey, her computer, and all her paperwork, and flashed me a triumphant grin. I believe he may have said something snarky as well.
This was his fatal mistake. One of my besetting flaws (of which, sadly, I have many) is that I cannot refuse a challenge, no matter how inappropriate the circumstances. I hesitated not a picosecond (hope I spelled that right—Word seems not to recognize it) and launched the balloon directly at him.
The look on his face was priceless, the contortions he put his body through to avoid the balloon were doubly so, and the noise he made could even today not be replicated by any acoustic technology know to man. It was a pure bonus to see Janey gather herself to give me the severe dressing-down I would momentarily deserve.
It took them both a significant fraction of a second to realize that, instead of hurtling across the room and delivering its soggy payload all over the guilty and innocent alike, the balloon was drifting through the air and gently settling to the floor.
That’s why I chased him until he ran into the building, by the way—it’s much funnier to destroy someone in their moment of victory than to just drench someone unwilling.
Maybe you had to be there, but I still can’t tell this story without laughing out loud. :)
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-24 07:18 pm (UTC)In other words, fundoscopic examination is unrevealing in these cases!
(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-24 07:40 pm (UTC)This is what I've been telling him for *years.* Ask him about his belly button.
This is what I've been telling him for *years.* Ask him about his belly button. <small><i><whisper</i> It's just a glamour! <i>/whisper</i></small>
the evidence mounts...
Date: 2006-05-24 07:44 pm (UTC)(It's actually a pretty good story--if he won't tell you, I'll be happy to fill you in.)
Re: the evidence mounts...
Date: 2006-05-24 08:20 pm (UTC)Re: the evidence mounts...
Date: 2006-05-24 08:25 pm (UTC)I'll trade you a belly button for a water balloon! leah at ncpod dot org. ;)
Re: the evidence mounts...
Date: 2006-05-24 08:35 pm (UTC)Water balloons
Date: 2006-05-24 11:17 pm (UTC)One fine Spring day, I purchased with my lunch money a bag of water balloons shaped like fragmentation grenades (the classic "pineapple"), and brought them with me to the lounge. Janey instantly decreed that Water Balloons Were An Outside Thing. No problem. I filled a bunch, shared them out with several of the lounge denizens (and yes, we deserved the connotations), and we proceeded to chase each other 'round the yard.
My recollection is fuzzy, but I believe our mutual friend held himself aloof from the proceedings. He didn't leave the vicinity, but he was much more an observer than a participant. I suddenly decided that participation was mandatory--a classic case of the act of observation altering the phenomena being observed. With a balloon in my hand, I began chasing a certain tall redhead. Not wishing to get wet, he ran around the building a couple of times, but couldn't shake me. Finally, he remembered the Rule and, on his next pass, dashed up the stairs into the lobby, where Janey's desk sat. He stopped right next to Janey, such that I could not hit him with the ballon without also hitting Janey, her computer, and all her paperwork, and flashed me a triumphant grin. I believe he may have said something snarky as well.
This was his fatal mistake. One of my besetting flaws (of which, sadly, I have many) is that I cannot refuse a challenge, no matter how inappropriate the circumstances. I hesitated not a picosecond (hope I spelled that right—Word seems not to recognize it) and launched the balloon directly at him.
The look on his face was priceless, the contortions he put his body through to avoid the balloon were doubly so, and the noise he made could even today not be replicated by any acoustic technology know to man. It was a pure bonus to see Janey gather herself to give me the severe dressing-down I would momentarily deserve.
It took them both a significant fraction of a second to realize that, instead of hurtling across the room and delivering its soggy payload all over the guilty and innocent alike, the balloon was drifting through the air and gently settling to the floor.
That’s why I chased him until he ran into the building, by the way—it’s much funnier to destroy someone in their moment of victory than to just drench someone unwilling.
Maybe you had to be there, but I still can’t tell this story without laughing out loud. :)
Re: Water balloons
Date: 2006-05-25 04:16 am (UTC)