I’m sitting at work, possibly the Sneeziest Place on Earth, and as I’m approaching the end of a work-related email composition, the vast majority of which end in “Thanks, Christopher,” a co-worker lets forth a mighty ka-choo. As I am wont to do and as etiquette would dictate, I issue a cheerful recognition of the diaphragmatic solution to his nasal woes. Unfortunately, instead of remarking with some ancient rhetoric “blessing” him against the possibility of his soul leaping forward from his mouth and wreaking havoc on the nearby populace, my brain inserts a substitute.

So, instead of merely sending cultural condolences on one of many heart-stopping incidents, I smilingly chirp “Thank you!” at an indescribably embarrassing volume. I try to recover with a stammered “I mean, bless you,” but by now it is far too late. Not only do I feel foolish blessing someone after the fact (colloquial rules only give you about a five-second delay), but my mind is now tickled with the idea of thanking someone for such an event. Mostly, I giggle and internally argue with myself over whether the person thinks I am being sarcastic, i.e., “THANK you SO MUCH for spewing your plague-ridden mucous into my general breathing space. HOW CONSIDERATE.” Only I’ve gone the extra mile of subtle sarcasm in saying it extra cheerily. Which, of course, makes me snicker all the more.

I am, accidentally, an asshole. And this is more amusing than actually being an asshole. Take note, NRA members.

* – Phrase on loan from one Mrs. Jessica Frantal. **

** – Though Mrs. Jessica Frantal*** did not coin the phrase, it is a common part of her vocabulary****, and I think it fitting to attribute it to her.

*** – Like the woman herself, we may still have difficulty recognizing this as her name, so the writing of it has cemented the term in my brain.

**** – She says it a lot. I’m not insulting her.