bless you

I met my friends Gwen and Bill for dinner the other day. Bill's father is also a Bill, which makes him Bill II. And this is exactly how he signs his name. We always found this to be quite amusing, and for a while took to calling him Bill: The Sequel. Bill, however, never fully appreciated our wit. So we have since ceased calling him this...to his face. Behind his back, he's still Bill: The Sequel, or simply Seeq for short.

I've never understood the need for some men to give their first born male the same name as themselves. Women don't seem to have this obsession. Gwen is simply 'Gwen the first' with no history of Gwens preceding her. Despite this, however, we're both anxiously awaiting for Bill to someday get married and have a baby boy, thus completing the Trilogy of Bills.

We were midway through our meal when Gwen happened to sneeze. Which isn't necessarily a noteworthy event, except that Gwen is a marathon sneezer. Single sneezes don't suffice. Rather Gwen can shoot off round after round of sneezes with nary a pause.

She claims to have once fired off 13 consecutive sneezes...a personal best for her. On this night, she missed that mark by about three. And after the last sneeze commenced, Bill and I said a collective 'bless you'.

She stared at us, mouth agape, and incredulously asked, “Only one? I sneezed, like, 10 times and for that I get only one 'bless you'?”

I've known Gwen longer than Bill and am more familiar with her courtesy quirks. This being said, the correct response is always, “Gwen, I'm incredibly sorry for being such a thoughtless cad.”

Bill, however, chose to say, “What are you talking about? We said 'bless you' once you were finished. Did you expect us to give each individual sneeze its own bless you?”

At this point, I opted to keep my mouth shut. Bill opened the can of worms and he could very well try closing it himself. I may not agree with Gwen's sneeze etiquette, but I know when to keep my mouth shut and blend into the decorum.

“Of course,” she told him. “That's how bless yous work...one per sneeze.”

“That's ridiculous,” he continued. “You get one bless you per string of sneezes...that's it. It's like applause at a graduation. You're always asked to hold off on clapping until the final name is called. That's the way it works and that's the way it's always worked!”

I took a bite of my burger, planning on sitting back and enjoying the sneezing debate from a spectator's standpoint when I started to choke.

Gwen and Bill continued to argue as I coughed and hacked, oblivious to my lack of oxygen.

Eventually, the coughing ceased but the raging sneeze debate continued. My near death experience went completely unnoticed while more important things...saying 'bless you' after each sneeze...took precedence.

Gwen was clearly a sneeze sympathizer who blatantly discriminated against us oxygen deprived chokers.

Due to this, I'm planning on chewing more carefully in her presence. I simply can't trust that my life will be safe in her hands if future food gets stuck in my throat.

Plus, I'll be docking her five 'bless yous'.