Sitting On A Protein-Powder Keg

| Friendly | January 20, 2017

(One of my husband’s and my friends is a bartender at a place we’ve been going to for years. He’s one of those guys who looks huge and intimidating given how muscular he is, but is basically a big, friendly, sweet dork. He works out at the gym constantly. Recently, however, he’s been having some medical problems.)

Friend: “So you remember how I told you I was having all those weird pains.”

Me: “Yeah, what happened?”

Friend: “Well, I went to this once specialist and he said it was probably scar tissue and I was stuck with it, and would just have to stop working out so much.”

Husband: “Well, that sucks, but you have to do what’s best for you.”

Friend: “No, that’s the thing! So I was listening to him, but I wasn’t getting any better.” *mixing up something in his personal coffee tumbler as he’s talking* “So I went through these three other doctors, and they all told me something different! But FINALLY I get referred to this one lady, and she runs some tests, and it turns out I’m allergic to my protein powder! And I cut it out, and she was right… I just have to stop drinking that, and I have no pain at all!”

Me: “Oh, well, that’s good.” *watching him begin to stir a familiar powder into his mug* “So… uh… whatcha mixing up there, [Friend]?”

Friend: *looks at mug, looks at me, puts mug behind his back, and grins guiltily* “… nothin’.”

(Buddy, I love you, but sometimes I wonder how you’re still alive.)

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