Just a Thought

Your boss had always been a bit of a bastard, but at least he had the decency to know it. Over the years, you had grown a kind of begrudging respect for him.

So it came as no surprise when this week for no particular reason, he wanted the TPS report on Thursday instead of Friday. Luckily you were able to knock it out by Thursday afternoon (with the help of some clever Excel macros that he didn't know about).

He actually seemed vaguely pleased when you told him the report had been uploaded. You figured it was your chance to be a little cheeky with the old fart, "Since this is done, I think I should get tomorrow off."

You were ready for a displeased "hmph" but not what you got, which was blinding pain behind your eyes. It was so intense your vision started to close in, and you had to brace yourself against the desk to stay on your feet.

After a few seconds, the pain started to clear and you were left panting for breath, wondering about a quick trip to the emergency room.

"You okay? Whatever, take tomorrow off."

What the fuck was that? What was up with the intense headache? Also, why did it sound like you said "I think" in a different font? What the hell does that even mean?

The sudden charitable attitude from the old man was still stuck in your brain while you were waiting for your takeout order for dinner. You were lost in thought when your order was brought out.

"I think I ordered a Coke too." Aaah... that fucking headache again. Not as bad this time, but like you hit the ice cream too hard and had brain freeze.

"Oh of course sir, here's your drink."

You wandered out of the restaurant thinking about these sudden headaches. Do you just Google "neurologist" and call them up? While trying to figure out basic life skills, you glance down at your receipt: no Coke.

After eating, you decide to clear your head with a drink at your local bar. The cute bartender is working, which is always a plus.

You tried the magic words a few more times with the others around you in the bar. "I think you should buy me a drink... I think you should move to that table... I think you should sing us a song... I think I should have some of those fries." The fries looked good. Don't judge.

It started to be clear that you could make any suggestion you want to anyone you want, but pain was the cost. The farther you had to push them from their natural behavior, the more it was going to hurt. Telling someone to "I think you should look over there" was no big deal, but telling the big guy who needed the exercise "I think you're going to walk 45 minutes back to your house instead of taking a cab" hurt like hell.

Deep down, you knew this was where it was going to end, so why procrastinate? You flagged over the cute bartender and said "I think you and I should go in the back so you can get me off."

You remember a flash of white light, blinding pain, and waking up on the sticky floor of the bar.

"Are you okay? How much did you have to drink?" The bartender was kneeling beside you. You must have been out for at least a few seconds: long enough to walk around the bar and get to you. The pain was still there, but subsiding quickly.

"Wha... I... Just the one. What happened?"

"You called me over, grabbed your forehead, and just kind of slumped off the barstool."

"I have... uh... low blood pressure." That seemed like a reasonable-enough explanation. "Wait... didn't I... um... ask you something?"

"You asked me to come over, I guess. I figured you needed a drink, then you passed out." No memory of the failed command.

So there was a limit to the suggestions you could make, and the limit was your pain tolerance. Great.