We Need A Secret Handshake Or Something

I was circling around Lake Calhoun yesterday when an older guy in a wheelchair passed me going the opposite direction. He raised his hand in greeting and I gave him a friendly flutter of the eyebrows. Afterwards, I glanced sideways at my nurse and said, “We all know each other, you know.” She laughed. As if she thought I was kidding.

Seriously, guys, you need to be more careful about acknowledging me in public. Planning for the revolution proceeds apace, but the authorities are beginning to suspect something is up. This blog is receiving a suspiciously high number of hits from government domains, which means I either suddenly have a lot of fans in the civil service or I’m being watched. Guess which theory I’m going with. So until Operation Poster Children is in full effect, the safest thing you can do is pretend you don’t me. And if you need to get me a message, use the usual drop point. And under the trash can, not in it. My nurses get really annoyed when they have to rummage through garbage. I don’t know how many times I have to say that.