Sleeve yourself alone.

Hey, it’s me, that blood pressure machine at the supermarket! How’s it going, old friend? I mean, “old” as in “we’ve known each other a long time,” not in reference to your age. You’re nowhere near the oldest person I see frequently, believe me.

Speaking of which, you remember Leonard, that guy who checked his blood pressure with me twice a week? Always wore that yellow flat cap? He’s not doing great. Has some kind of skin condition. Really itchy, super red and raw. Highly contagious, they say. And he’s apparently had it for months without realizing it. Poor guy.

Still, I’ll take the oldsters over the kids any day. The other day these two twelve-year-old boys were playing around on me. So obnoxious! First trying to stick their heads in the cuff. Then, when that didn’t work, sticking their feet in the cuff. And that did work, after they took their shoes off. Whew, the smell! You wouldn’t believe it!

But hey, I guess I should be grateful I can smell. There’s this sweet old thing, Marjorie her name is, who’s always stuffed up. Always dabbing at her nose, sneezing, blowing her nose. It’s amazing how much snot can come out of such a tiny person. She always takes the tissue and hand sanitizer they leave out for wiping me off. I don’t mind. She needs it more than I do.

Anyway, I keep seeing you down at the supermarket, but you never sit down to take the cuff for a spin anymore. I hope you’re not forgetting to check your blood pressure. That wouldn’t be healthy!