This Is A Test. This Is Only A Test.

Okay, I'm a little terrified today:

Yesterday, a Sunday back from a great Halloween off. Two great shows, a nice run through Central Park (and battling the aftermath of the NYC Marathon) and a birthday celebration (Beth Leavel's) in between and all was well. I finished the second show. Went to my dressing room to change and I suddenly sneezed. Twice. No big deal, I thought. I finished getting dressed, left the theater and headed down Broadway to my destination - home. It was two blocks away that I realized I left my wallet in my dressing room. I walked back and Mike, our doorman, let me in. I tried to say hello - but nothing came out! I got my wallet, headed back out and walked for a few blocks, talking to myself, trying my voice - nothing! I stopped at Starbucks, thinking a warm Venti Hot Chocolate might sooth the chords - I couldn't even order! I had to whisper in the barista's ear, "Venti hot chocolate with skim milk and whip cream." I think he thought I was making a pass at him. But I was terrified. I've never had this happen. Not a sound came out. What do I do?
Went home, took a hot shower, tried to rest my voice the rest of the night and all day today. My poor wife is having a rather invasive (read:colonoscopy) medical procedure today and I wanted to be there for her. Now I can only support her in a non-verbal way. It's 12noon now, I can feel it getting better, I only hope I can find my upper vocal register before 8:00pm tonight!

Quick story under the category of "New Yorkers - you think you know everything":
I'm running up Central Park West, against traffic and amidst all the Marathon finishers. Thousands of people are out and milling. It's hard to run, but I'm making my way. Suddenly, a man on a bike, pulling up next to me and also riding against traffic, points to my left with the directive "Dude, sidewalk." Not wanting to start an argument, nor giving in to his admonishment, I simply comment, "Yes, it's there."
His response? "You should be on it."
I found the irony of the situation to hard to leave alone and what came next, if I do say so myself, is what separates free thinkers from the rest of the world.
"I'm sorry", I said in a somewhat fake Hispanic/Italian/foreign accent, "I don't speak English. But I know an asshole when I met one!" And off I went.
I'm sure it's not the first time that line has ever been used, but I found the absurdity of the situation just too outside the norm NOT to respond.
New Yorkers - you think you know everything!

Wish me luck tonight!