|He must have photoshopped my stomach.|
"It doesn't matter how good looking a person is, we all stink," he observed, in the middle of a discussion about blood spatters and how bodies decompose.
Thank you, thank you, I thought, as I ran to the can.
After a few dry heaves, I walked back in.
"Tell 'em what you do with the bodies," prompted then Executive John Stoffa.
Lysek then started talking about gross tissue samples and some 16-slice scanning machine that sounds like something you'd see in a zombie deli. When he started talking about getting sprayed by dead bodies, I was out the door permanently.
Ever since that day, whenever Lysek sees me, he asks, "Are you feeling alright?"
Last night was no exception at Council Committee meetings. I have no idea why he was even there, but he kept smiling at me.
After the shouting was over, I turned around and he was right behind me!
"Are you alright?"
Then he asked if he could take my picture. He knows how to use a camera and must have had lots of practice, but I had to lie down.