T,T,TMI

Or, Don’t Talk To Strangers

Have you ever had carpal tunnel? I have. It’s an ache in whichever forearm you use most, that runs from mildly annoying to Very Serious Indeed. Knock wood, I’ve been lucky so far. I hope you have too.

In today’s mouse-driven culture, those carpal tunnel braces are as ubiquitous as parking meters. So when I was in line at the grocery store the other day and the cashier had a really cool-looking brace, it seemed safe to comment on it.

Yes, yes, I know. “Never talk to strangers.”

But her brace was much nicer than the one I wear when my wrist hurts and I have to hold a big camera for hours at Danger Room. I wanted one like it. Besides, you break the “Don’t talk to strangers” rule all the time too.

Well, we shouldn’t.

Here’s why:

The cashier told me it wasn’t a brace at all. It was just a sport glove. She unfastened it to show me a fresh surgical scar. Chapter two was about how the surgeon severed the nerve to her good fingers and permanently damaged the fingers he was supposed to be fixing. The dénouement was that because of his mistake, she now has stage one systemic CPRS, for which there is no treatment and no cure.

Prognosis: pain and death.

Then she told me I saved $2.79 by using my store card, and wished me a nice day.

What would you have done?

Don’t tell me that even though the scar was recent and real, the story might be fake. I know that. The point is to respond appropriately given the context.

This wasn’t anything like when the very nice elderly lady told me about her husband’s chronic constipation. You can make a joke about constipation. I couldn’t make a joke about pain and death. Oh, it can be done, but I couldn’t do it, not right then and not there.

Instead, I wished her luck. No matter what, if it was true or if she's just bored with her job, I do indeed wish her luck.

As I tweeted from the parking lot, I am never talking to anybody about anything other than the weather ever again.