It started with a sniffle.

by Garry Clark

Im talking to a table of two about some wine selections, the list held open in my hands, my head bent over the top of it pointing out a few select choices that would fit their criteria. As I turn the page over to New Zealand and start describing a few of my favourites I can feel it starting to dribble a bit. My right nostril is full of snot and gravity has chosen that moment to start exerting its influence. I sniff deeply and can feel it pulling back into my nostril, but I know it wont last for long. That green slime is gathering re-inforcements for a determined attack south. Its kind of hard to concentrate when you just know that any second now a green river of snot is going to erupt from your nostril. I lost my train of thought and had to rush myself, almost pushing the couple into making a choice so that I could run out the back and blow my nose.

It all started about a week ago with a sore throat, then my sinusii (is that the correct plural?) filled up with the thickest green slime imaginable. For a week I was rendered useless in that I couldnt smell a damned thing (apart that is from TCA, for some bizarre reason I could still detect TCA in wines but nothing else). I came to rely on my colleagues to tell me if the wines were ok or oxidised. And it made me think about how really I shouldnt be at work like this. A year ago we were in the grip of Swine Flu hysteria and I would have been quarantined and off work for weeks, now I just have to get on with it. So with a swift blow of my nose, a quick washing of my hands, its back to the front and on with the show.