Thought of the Day

I've always felt uncomfortable offering someone a piece of gum when I'm taking one out for myself, even though it's customary to do so. I always think the person will think I'm implying their breath smells when it's nothing more than a formality. Then the person will get all self-conscious about their breath and it will add to the extensive list of things he feels self-conscious about and he'll end up in therapy and start brushing his teeth six times a day. Then his enamel will wear off from so much brushing and gargantuan dental bills will start piling up to the point where he has to open another mortgage on his house and use the money he normally reserves for recreation on his monthly budget to help pay the new mortgage. Before you know it, he's working at Pet Smart on the weekends to supplement his income at Cubicle Maze, Inc., and he's developed acute stress disorder. Dr. Mallard, the local psychiatrist, insists he take the latest anti-anxiety medication, Zed-8. The pills are expensive, but Dr. Mallard promises him they will help, so he obliges. Due to the expense of the prescriptions, he can no longer afford to take his two vacation weeks a year from Cubicle Maze, Inc., and the added stress of having practically no leisure time causes him to start drinking heavily. The excessive drinking causes him to brush his teeth even more frequently to help mask the smell of cheap scotch on his breath. It becomes an irreversible downward spiral until one Saturday evening, after getting back from a day of cleaning up parrot crap at Pet Smart, he has one too many glasses of cheap scotch and the precarious mixture of alcohol and Zed-8 proves fatal. All because I offered him a piece of gum eight months prior.