So today I almost died. And then I got in a car accident.
I dunno, I guess when I say that I am allergic to peanuts and the other party understands me perfectly well, as in the case where I go to this shop every day for lunch almost, and order the same thing consistently, I expect understanding. It really isn't so hard to *not* put peanuts on the food, and it even saves them money because they charge me the same regardless. However, when they forget and then bring me food with peanuts on it, and then remember they feel ashamed. This is also understandable. What I can't comprehend is how a person can think it is acceptable to simply remove the peanuts and then feed me the same food that they simply took the peanuts off of.
I admit this is also partly my fault for not checking to see if they had remade the food, as a lot of places tend to do this in favour of speedy service, but this was after the lunch rush and I was the only customer there. My co-workers and some friends are urging me to press action, but I threw out all the evidence and I don't know why, but for some reason, seeing vindication against a small business (which I assume isn't doing very well from its state of repair may indicate) just seems wrong to me.
This whole episode has left me in fear of the food I eat every day, because my life is constantly in the hands of others. (True I can walk down the street and be hit by a car, but this is a danger specifically to me). Just knowing my own mortality lies closely at hand scares me, but makes me want to take risks and savor what I can while I can. I'd like to think that dying would be worth the 5.99 special for lunch, but it really isn't. Needless to say, I shan't be frequenting that restaurant again, but the larger problem is that there are brief moments of clarity where I realize that I should be scared to eat anywhere. I should constantly be afraid to consume sustenance for fear that it is poisoned against my body.
And yet I'm not. I like to tell myself that it is active on my part, that I am not going to let my allergy rule my life. That I am not simply defined as a person who will die if he consumes nuts, and that I offer much more to the table. But the truth is that I am far too human, too full of fallacies and deficiencies that will allow me to slip into safety and the secure feeling of routine. Once in a while a jolt like this will remind me of exactly how precarious my position in life is, but again I have that uncomfortable feeling that tomorrow it won't be so fresh in my memory and I wills tart taking chances again.
Even just sitting in a lane waiting to turn left at a light not two minutes from my house proved disastrous today as well. After the whole debacle with the nut-covered food, (which by the way ended with me dumping the meal when I saw a nut on the end of my fork before putting it in my mouth, after eating a few bites. It seems they didn't get rid of all of them off the top. I am glad I work in a pharmacy where medication is readily available,) I was rear-ended. The shock of being in an accident is still alive in my body, and simple logic is/was difficult to cling to. The reassuring voice of a 9/11 operator is an amazing thing.
My car had no damage, and the 2011 White SUV with three adults and a screaming child which rammed into my backside at around 30km/h simply had a dent, but the experience itself was jarring (physically and mentally). I will make no assumptions on the lady driving behind me, but that she had to call her husband and speak in a language I didn't understand spoke volumes. Her English was understandable however, and attempted to persuade me not to call the police and report it. However that is the law, and regardless of any damages, I needed to report what happened. Dealing with other people is probably the worst part of my day, but as a cashier I have power, and they are in my world. On the road with cars driving past at 80 km/h, trying to get her to tell me her insurance was embarrassing. I felt like the bad guy, when I shouldn't have. I was alone in my vehicle however, and she had a posse.
So after she hit the spare tire on the back of my jeep (which was stopped), and dinged her front, and then trying to tell me that it was nothing, I as the victim feel bad about needing identification. I guess she could have refused and then the police would have needed to get involved, but after the accident I went to the police reporting station where they told me that I didn't need to report it if there weren't any damages. I find it incredibly infuriating that people can get away with poor driving in this manner. The danger exists for someone else out there, and if I can find myself taking risks with my own health and food choices, what is someone behind the car going to feel the next day after an accident?
I admit this is also partly my fault for not checking to see if they had remade the food, as a lot of places tend to do this in favour of speedy service, but this was after the lunch rush and I was the only customer there. My co-workers and some friends are urging me to press action, but I threw out all the evidence and I don't know why, but for some reason, seeing vindication against a small business (which I assume isn't doing very well from its state of repair may indicate) just seems wrong to me.
This whole episode has left me in fear of the food I eat every day, because my life is constantly in the hands of others. (True I can walk down the street and be hit by a car, but this is a danger specifically to me). Just knowing my own mortality lies closely at hand scares me, but makes me want to take risks and savor what I can while I can. I'd like to think that dying would be worth the 5.99 special for lunch, but it really isn't. Needless to say, I shan't be frequenting that restaurant again, but the larger problem is that there are brief moments of clarity where I realize that I should be scared to eat anywhere. I should constantly be afraid to consume sustenance for fear that it is poisoned against my body.
And yet I'm not. I like to tell myself that it is active on my part, that I am not going to let my allergy rule my life. That I am not simply defined as a person who will die if he consumes nuts, and that I offer much more to the table. But the truth is that I am far too human, too full of fallacies and deficiencies that will allow me to slip into safety and the secure feeling of routine. Once in a while a jolt like this will remind me of exactly how precarious my position in life is, but again I have that uncomfortable feeling that tomorrow it won't be so fresh in my memory and I wills tart taking chances again.
Even just sitting in a lane waiting to turn left at a light not two minutes from my house proved disastrous today as well. After the whole debacle with the nut-covered food, (which by the way ended with me dumping the meal when I saw a nut on the end of my fork before putting it in my mouth, after eating a few bites. It seems they didn't get rid of all of them off the top. I am glad I work in a pharmacy where medication is readily available,) I was rear-ended. The shock of being in an accident is still alive in my body, and simple logic is/was difficult to cling to. The reassuring voice of a 9/11 operator is an amazing thing.
My car had no damage, and the 2011 White SUV with three adults and a screaming child which rammed into my backside at around 30km/h simply had a dent, but the experience itself was jarring (physically and mentally). I will make no assumptions on the lady driving behind me, but that she had to call her husband and speak in a language I didn't understand spoke volumes. Her English was understandable however, and attempted to persuade me not to call the police and report it. However that is the law, and regardless of any damages, I needed to report what happened. Dealing with other people is probably the worst part of my day, but as a cashier I have power, and they are in my world. On the road with cars driving past at 80 km/h, trying to get her to tell me her insurance was embarrassing. I felt like the bad guy, when I shouldn't have. I was alone in my vehicle however, and she had a posse.
So after she hit the spare tire on the back of my jeep (which was stopped), and dinged her front, and then trying to tell me that it was nothing, I as the victim feel bad about needing identification. I guess she could have refused and then the police would have needed to get involved, but after the accident I went to the police reporting station where they told me that I didn't need to report it if there weren't any damages. I find it incredibly infuriating that people can get away with poor driving in this manner. The danger exists for someone else out there, and if I can find myself taking risks with my own health and food choices, what is someone behind the car going to feel the next day after an accident?