The flu season is upon us, over arched eyebrows the local news person is advising the shot

The stick is easier than trying to justify your illness at the clinic with “I forgot”

Just don’t celebrate the vaccination event at your favorite diner

Because germs congregate there to turn one into a nose dripping whiner

How is that possible it’s asked, the place always looks so clean

Oh there is an effort made, it’s not the plates, flatware or cuisine

But realize in the restroom a sign states employees must wash hands before returning to work

However after washing all that is offered is an ineffective blower making it easier to wipe hands on pants where the bad germs lurk

At your seat you’re handed a laminated menu that may have been wiped down once before stacking in the hostess’ rack

But the velcro sound made when turning the pages makes one wonder if the stickiness a disease waiting to attack

Deciding on the salad bar and half sandwich with fries you head to the bar

But the idea of grabbing the same serving tongs a stressed daycare worker and the twelve people before her is really quite bizarre

After the salad the food is delivered and you reach for the ketchup to slather on your fries

This is the same bottle handled by the pale looking kid with goop oozing out of his eyes

But you enjoy the meal and return to the job secure in the knowledge you’ve had the vaccine

A couple of hours later your stomach feels queasy and coworkers are remarking how you look a little green

Then it hits, suddenly your mouth waters and you head to the restroom at a fast trot

Over retching sounds while trying to maintain your dignity you question the value of the shot