With a friend like you, who needs enemies?

This comic was my inspiration for the following short story.

 “I’ll take a mocha frappuccino please, and that’s all.”

The cashier pokes a button on the black cash register. It dings and the amount shows on the screen in glowing numbers.

 “That will be $3.50, please.”

I hand him my card and look around the coffee shop. Most of the tables and couches are full, with the exception of the in the middle. College students pound furiously on the keys of their laptops. A young couple is cuddled up on the love seat, whispering and sipping their drinks. Near the windows, an elderly man sits in a rocking chair. The smell of fresh ground coffee fills the store and I inhale deeply, enjoying the aroma. The cashier slides my card towards me. Smiling, I take it and move to the other end of the counter. A cheerful young barista places my coffee in front of me.

 “Thank you and have a lovely day!”

I nod in reply and grab the cold drink. Readjusting my purse strap, I amble towards the tables and sit down at the only open one—one in the middle of the room. I pull out the chair and it squeaks against the floor. I am barely in my seat before the one across from me is pulled out, sat in and pushed back in.

 “Hi!”

Setting my coffee on the table, I pull my chair in and look at the hyper friend sitting across from me. Where did she come from?  She holds a coffee in her hands as well. A white label peeks out from under her fingers and I just make out the word ‘espresso’ before she raises it to her lips and takes a drink. Wonderful.

 “Are you sure you should be drinking that?” I ask, raising my eyebrows just a little bit.

Turning, she hangs her purse on her chair and then replies, “Oh sure. It’s fine. I get these all the time. They got like, no affect on me.”

My eye starts to itch and I blink, trying to dislodge the invisible speck. I close my lips around the straw of my drink and take a sip before replying.

 “You do?”

She nods. “Yeppers! They’re like the bestest.”

A peculiar burning sensation comes over my eyes. I reach up and rub them. They start to water up and I blink again.  My friend cocks her head to one side, her bright green streaked hair brushing her shoulder. She places her coffee on the table and folds her hands in front of her, her ring glinting on her left ring finger. I smile at her before taking a tissue out of my purse and blowing my now congested nose. The charm bracelet on my right wrist rubs against my cheek.  What is going on?  I felt fine just a minute ago!

 “You like look terrible. Do you like got a cold or somethin’?”

This time I reach for a napkin and blow my nose. “No, I don’t have a cold.” My voice sounds funny and seems to echo in my head. I pick up my drink and place it against my forehead.

 “I just remembered somethin’. You haven’t learnt how to play Settlers of Catan yet. Do you want to like come over later?”

My throat starts to constrict and my lungs began to burn. Taking a sip from my coffee, I have difficulty swallowing it, but the cool feels wonderful against my throat. I turn to my right and lean down, picking up my purse from the floor. Placing it on glass-topped table, I dig through it. I’ve got to find my inhaler! My fingers grasp the familiar shape of the medicine and I pull it out. I shake it and then inhale the contents. The burning in my lungs starts to subside. A long stream of endless chatter comes from across the table, my friend oblivious to my discomfort.

 “So me and him finished the game. I want you to know how to play too! It’s like the funnest game ever!”

My heart starts to beat quicker and I struggle to breathe. The itching in my eyes continues and my nose seems to be congested faster than I can clear it out. Shaking my inhaler, I again breathe in the medicine. My friend pauses to glance up, realizing I hadn’t responded in a while.

 “Oh Mylanta! I should of called 911 by now! You look terrible. Your eyes is all red and weepy,” she pushes my drink towards me, her nails squeaking on the glass top. “You got to drink this. It will help.”

Breathing becomes more labored now and I raise the drink to my lips. The sweet drink fills my mouth, but I barely taste it. I try to swallow and a round of coughing happens instead. I clap my hands over my mouth, attempting to keep the drink in. I can feel the glares from other people around the coffee shop. One even has the audacity to say, “Shhh.” The coughing subsides for a moment and I swallow.

Wiping my wet eyes, I turn to my friend, pleading, “Please-“

 “-call 911? Well, you could of told me that a while ago. I’m so sorry, honey! I ain’t been much help!”

She reaches into her purse as another round of coughing overcomes me. My lungs burn and at this point, I know the inhaler won’t help.       

“Hello, is this like, 911?”

A muffled voice comes across the other end of the phone. I try to drink my coffee, thinking the liquid will subdue my coughing. It doesn’t. Instead, I spew it across a table next to me, completely soaking someone’s novel. They jump up and shout something at me, but I’m too distracted to hear their words.

“My friend like has got this like allergy thing going on and well, she like can’t breathe. What caused it? How would of I known? I ain’t never seen her like this before. How pacific do you need me to be? Y’all just need to get yourselves here now.”

I start to feel lightheaded and place my head in my hands, still coughing. The cough racks my body and everything starts to feel swollen. Breathing heavily, I try to focus on the line the runs around the edge of the table. It seems to wobble and move in a million different directions.

The bell above the door dings again and I’m vaguely aware of someone talking to me. My friend chatters in the background, along with a deep voice I don’t recognize. Several hands grip my arms and gently pull me up from my chair. They guide me to lie down on something and I try to get my eyes focused. All I can see is the color they are wearing—white. Something sharp jabs into my arm and I wince, and then continue to cough even more.

After what seems like hours of coughing, my breathing starts to return to normal. The coughing subsides. My throat feels scratchy and I raise my hand to scratch around my neck, knowing it won’t help. A man with dark hair leans over me. He also wears a white uniform.

“Ma’am, I want to explain what just happened to you.”

I nod.

 “Your friend here tells me that you’re a writer. You suffer from an allergy very common in this job. Miss, you’re allergic to grammatical errors.”

I open my eyes wide, instantly regretting it. The cold air reaches the still itching parts and causes them to water once again. “Grammatical errors? Why haven’t I noticed this before?”

The paramedic starts to reply, but is pushed aside. My friend stands in his place, a worried expression on her face.

 “You ain’t going to die are you? I got them here. I know I should have like called them sooner. You were like all red and like coughing and stuff. ”

My throat starts to constrict again and my lungs burn. Covering my mouth, my cough returns.

“Miss, I need you to leave please,” says the paramedic, in an authoritative tone.

The man escorts her out of the coffee shop. She screams (using bad grammar of course) about the “injustice of the situation” and I use my inhaler again. After my cough calms down, I glance around the coffee shop. 

People sit at the various tables, some holding their coffee cups halfway to their mouths. Others look annoyed and still others have their cellphones pulled out, recording the entire scene. Embarrassed, I decide to stare at the ceiling instead.

I turn to the paramedic. “Sir, why haven’t I noticed this before?”

He rubbed his mustache and then replied, “What you thought was asthma was the beginning of your allergies. 

With the repeated exposure to grammatical errors, it has caused your condition to worsen.”

“Holy cow. You ruined my book over that? That made me so mad,” a voice yells behind me.

Oh, I’ve just got to get out of here. I struggle to my feet. Blood rises to my cheeks. Walking forward, I grab my purse off the chair. The room starts to spin and I grab the edge of the table. Just leave. I barely make it two steps before I black out.