Where's Dara?

Daria requested that this little anecdote goes on the blog:

(that’s her)

On Sunday, I was quietly sitting at my desk, working on my computer (It being a workday and all). Ghizal, my office mate and assistant, calls to me, after picking up her phone:

“Dara!,” she says.

I turn to face her—she is cradling her phone against her face, talking to me and the phone. “Yes?” I ask.

“The doctors says that you must go and get the shot,” she responds.

“What shot?”

“The.. shot. You must get it”

“What is the name of the medicine,” I asked – confused and dubious.

She talked into the phone quickly in Dari and then looked up and said hesitantly, “the bird flu shot.”

“Sorry?,” I say.

“The flu shot. The bird flu shot. You must get I,.” She said somewhat insistently.

Somewhat amused, I said, “Ghizal, did you say the bird flu shot or the flu shot?”

Again, a quick Dari conversation into the phone ensues. “The bird flu shot,” she says with confidence.

“Um, I don’t think that there is a ‘bird flu’ shot. I am pretty sure there is no vaccine for it. Are you sure it is not the flu shot?”

She looked at me, unsure if she should be embarrassed, amused, or working to clarify it. She relays this message to the doctor. She looks up at me, and says somewhat crestfallen—“Yes, it is the flu shot.”