Gary the Cold Sore

Pat Fule
Fule for Thought

 

There’s nothing like being a high school teacher and going for groceries. I don’t get to be very anonymous, and sometimes the kids make shopping a real adventure. I’m not going to tell you which grocery store I was at, because I don’t want the “boys” (or girls) to get in trouble.
However, I was in the Dairy section and was reaching for a jug of milk. Two parka clad worker guys yelled “boo!” at the same time! I almost dropped the jug, and for a moment, had to think if I’d wet myself a bit!
“Well played, boys … well played,” I told them. “What would’ve really added to it, would be you guys trying to pull me into the fridge!”
Crap … I had given them an idea for next time!
A while back, we had gone to my daughter’s with our old dog, Brodie. As usual, he was a hit, and he roamed from room to room hanging out. That’s when I saw him in the Beer Pong room! He’s pretty low to the ground with a Brown and White belly that obviously hangs lower. The problem was, that there were some spilled beverages under the table where he waddled, and we watched as his wet paw prints led out to another room. Great, I thought.
“You guys know that he’s going to get drunk if he licks his paws tonight!” You see, he has a nightly ritual where he does just that … he licks his paws before he groans once and falls asleep on our bed. I could picture it now … he’d lick his paws, and I’d have a drunk dog on our bed! Then we’d also wind up with the only 15-year-old hung over dog in Strathmore!
Speaking of parties … we roasted Deb for her 50th birthday last week. It was great fun, mainly because Debbie hates to be embarrassed. And anyone who knows me, knows that I love to embarrass her! I talked about things in history from 1965, and got on to the topic of top TV shows of 1965.
“The top shows were Get Smart, I Dream of Jeannie, and a Western called The Big Valley,” I said. “That’s also my nickname for Deb’s cleavage!” That got a big laugh, and it mortified Debbie, so … Mission Accomplished!
That night while I was the DJ for Karaoke, I got to see and hear many singers! We even named one “Cindy Lou and the Shacks!”
They did some mean Abba, but as each singer came up, I could feel something was wrong. On my upper lip, a huge cold sore was growing! Each time I went to the bathroom, it seemed to be bigger, and I could actually feel the tingling of it spreading! By Monday, at school, it had become the biggest cold sore I’d ever had. Of course, some high school kids don’t always have a filter for their thoughts becoming words. At the start of Grade 11 English, one said “Holy crap, Mr. Fule … that’s the biggest cold sore I’ve ever seen!”
“Why, thank you Bob … I’m not sure everyone in the class heard you,” I replied.
So, after discussing cold sores and being told “you know, cold sores are a form of Herpes, Mr. Fule. You might have herpes”, and me saying, “it’s not that kind of Herpes, Einstein,” I decided that since it’s so big, I should name it!
“Gary, my cold sore’s name is Gary,” I stated to the class. Of course, they wanted to know why I picked that name. “Well, Gary’s my brother’s name. When I was a kid, he could be really irritating, he was (at times) a real pain, and he stuck around a long time,” I stated. So, we named him Gary.
Now Deb and I went to Banff for the weekend, which is where I was born, and we played “tourist”. We wound up at the Upper Hot Springs for a hot soak. Deb’s always worried about how crowded the pool can get, and she can get pretty freaked out. Of course, I don’t help her much!
“You know, there are so many people in this pool, it’s like a human soup!” I said. “yep, here we are … people losing skin cells, hair, God knows what, and we’re floating in it.”
That pretty much made her more grossed out, and after a while, we left for a pub. After ordering, I went to the bathroom. When I came back, I was a bit quiet.
“What’s up?” she asked.
“You won’t believe it,” I said. “Gary’s gone!”
At first she thought I meant that my brother had left for Mexico, but I told her the real truth. This is also gross, as I had been the one losing skin cells … the remnants of “Gary” had somehow fallen off at the hot pool! I was the gross one, and back there in that hot pool of poor, unknowing people … GARY was probably floating around! I’m sorry, all you Banff touristy people … I didn’t know that would happen! I felt like a leper losing a leg, but then I thought, oh well, they use enough Chlorine in that pool to kill a moose anyway. Bye Gary … I’m not gonna miss you!
(“Fule for Thought” is a slice of life humourous column that appears in the Strathmore Times, written by long-time resident, town councillor, high school teacher, coach, husband and father of two – Pat Fule. If you would like to get in touch with Pat, you can send him an e-mail at Pat.fule@shaw.ca)