CHARLIE: Good morning! Oh wow, your eyes are so red.
WALTER (calmly): Allergies.
CHARLIE (curious): You sure? They look so puffy. I think they’re oozing.
WALTER: Nope. Just allergies.
CHARLIE (concerned): Do you realize your nose is bleeding profusely?
WALTER: You know, pollen.
CHARLIE: Your hair is falling out! Go to a doctor!
WALTER: I guess the Claritin didn’t work. What’re you gonna do?
CHARLIE: Please, go to a hospital! You’re so jaundiced.
WALTER: It’s just allergies, man! Calm down.
CHARLIE: Oh my God! You’re coughing up blood! I’ll get the nurse!
WALTER: No need. I heard the pollen count is really high this week. (He collapses.)
CHARLIE: You legitimately have ebola. Don’t touch me!
WALTER: Allergies!
The Lighter Side of the Moon 
This describes my life exactly. Someone tried to convince me the other day that I had the flu, and no matter how adamantly I insisted it was allergies, she still told me I should go home for the day. (Which I did!)
This conversation occurred (minus the ebola) between a friend of mine and I. In spring, you can blame literally anything on pollen with varying degrees of success.