So, I’m having some hot soup. It’s greasy and too hot too eat. I find out that it’s nuclear hot when it gets knocked onto my leg where it stuck like napalm. The restaurant owner makes me come to the back and take my pants off so he can apply salve and bandages. Now my left hand and right leg are intensely red blister havens. Every step hurts as cloth rubs against the leg and I have to keep my fingers separated in a freakish looking position. Trying to limp along and then sit down in the train exhibits all the visible traits of the very arthritic elderly. Joy.