Tabouleh Rasa

So, I got a terrible spider bite on Friday. The kind that's big enough that you must go to the doctor for it, but small enough that you feel like a wuss when you do and the doctor says it's nothing. (And by you, I mean me. Please exchange driver's licenses accordingly.)

It's mostly healed, but today I needed a Band-Aid. I went to my office First Aid Kit down by the coffee room to get one.

The First Aid Kit contained:

• 50 assorted Hot Wheels brand race car toys, mostly T-Birds


• An anthology of World War II-era science fiction pulp stories


• A drinking flask, full of gasoline mixed with Kool-Aid powder


• 10 pencils dipped in chocolate


• Assorted eyebright weeds


• An 8-track tape of Russian folk songs


• A cute but nonfunctional tiny plastic replica of a Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation Machine


• 2 pairs of cheap wooden chopsticks


• A gorilla mask


• An oversized foam finger with big blocky text that said FIRST AID KIT


• Some tabouleh

I wrote down a list of the contents, then went to the office manager to complain that there was a lack of bandaids.

"Why would we need bandaids in the medical kit?" he said, "The kit is stocked with everything we might need for first aid, and there aren't any humans in the whole -- oh. Excuse me."

Then he got on the phone. "Security? Hi. We have a human in the building. Could you send someone down for cleanup?"

Reader, I fled him.