Slave to the Sneeze

The cold is far from common.

It’s no short-skirted flooze sniffing about the docks asking if you ‘wanna little cough with tha’ crumpet?’  It’s not a crude strumpet, with her wares pulled down to its tonsils, opening its mouth to say ‘ahhhh’ and — presto — in-flew-Enza!  It is not a tart needing to be chilled, a whore wot causes temperatures to rise, or a harlot to be sneezed at.

It’s a bitch, and it’s lurking on a corner near you.

In an era obsessed with Swine, Equine, Bird, Asian, Spanish, Blue and Chimney Flu, the cold has become less bourgeois and is caught by far classier people than ever before.  Due to the rising fear factor and popularity of the aforementioned conditions, the uncommon cold has been chested to the back page and only read through runny eyes.

But it’s really very posh.  It’s spread via the sharing of vintage Dom Perignon from the bottle.  It’s acquired in the first class cabins of all the best air carriers in the world.  It’s given with Tiffany and Valentino and Porshe.  You can catch it from exchanging one million bucks or breathing the same air as the monarchy.

We consider ourselves fortunate to be sneezed upon by a leading financier of the country.  We are proud when we shake snotty hands with the local member of the Green Party (ewww, sorry, this post is turning into visual germicide).  We love being ‘colded’ by the monied, the prominent, the movers and shakers.

The cold is not common.

The flu is so last season.  Its symptoms leave us apathetic.  It’s a pain in the arse and a headache in the making.  It blows hot and cold and doesn’t leave us with a leg to stand on.  The flu is antiquated, pretentiously named (influenza?) and common.

Unlike it’s groovy cousin, the Cold.

The Cold is a gift that just keeps giving.  You can visit a relative, a friend, the bathroom of a stranger and receive the gift of a cold.  Sick of one symptom (eg: been sneezing all night)?  Then the Cold bestows something new the next day — lethargy, a cough, a wad of nose snozzle so nefarious, it seems that the boogie man has crept in and in and is living in your sinuses.

Tired of the nasal scenario?  The Cold gives you a wheezy chest or selective laryngitis (in case you don’t want to speak to a particular neighbour) to vary its stay.

Then, miraculously, The Cold disappears about seven days after its arrival.  How can anything that gives so much to so many, then quietly slips into the night, be considered common?

Do you have The Celebrated Cold at the moment?  I do.  Thankfully, it’s going, about to slime away into the night until the day it deems fit to snuffle bac (teria) into the body.  Until then, I shall keep vigilant about those calling it common. It may be as mundane as Mondays, but elements of it remain a mystery, its onset is stealth, and it can still pack a punch that will have you flat on your back until Ch-ch-chewsday.