One Man’s Diagnosis of Biz Caz Blues, Part 5: An Erin Brockovich Situation

“Well,  what is it?” I asked.  “Is it the water here or something in the office air?  Is this some Erin Brockovich shit or something?”

Dr. Susnow explained that he was able to rule out the water and air because two of the six employees who suffered from the same symptoms worked in two different satellite offices.

“I have a theory,” he said, “but it’s only a theory.”  He stopped.

“Well, what is it?” I demanded, growing impatient.

“Hmm, I don’t know if I should tell you because, like I said, it’s only a theory and, really, I need more time to think about it.  Telling you now would be premature.”

“You gotta tell me.  I’m dying here.  I can barely get out of bed in the morning.  I can’t go on like this.  I just can’t.”

“O.K., O.K.  I’ll tell you but this doesn’t go beyond this room.  You must promise met that.  If this theory is true, which I hope it’s not, it will disrupt the entire order of things as they now are.  Do you understand me?”

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