Complicated and Demanding

by pjmcbride

…is the kind of person Rom said I am. So there.

 

WARNING, GROSS STORY AHEAD:

 

I SHOULDN’T HAVE TO TELL YOU THIS (or maybe, I just shouldn’t)

I was minding my own business on the bus–because, really, who else’s business should I be minding? Well, I’ll tell you. There was a young couple with a small child. The woman started picking her nose. You heard me. She wasn’t just scratching it; she was right up in there. She then inspected what she removed, then wiped her finger on her pants leg. She then repeated the process on the other nostril. She then–then–removed a tissue from her pocket and did the whole thing over again. I ask you: WHY (there really aren’t enough caps and boldface and italics in the world to express my outrage), if she had a tissue, didn’t she just use it at the outset? “Oh, I don’t believe I have a tissue. I’ll just have to go for the gold.” I wanted to yell, “DO YOU REALIZE WE CAN ALL SEE YOU?” But then fights would break out, and she might get cooties on me. Then the police would come, and I’d get cooties on them, world without end, etc. OFFICER SAFETY ALERT: SUBJECT HAS COOTIES.

And why am I telling you this? Because misery loves company, and this is why I have a blog. Well, this and other equally ugly reasons. I’m just glad I don’t lose my appetite easily–I was on the way to get lunch–but it was a near thing. It was like a co-worker I used to have (not at my current workplace, so don’t waste your time trying to figure out who I might be talking about), who used to spit on the floor. I glared at her, and she said, “Well, what do you expect me to do, swallow it?” Yes, that’s exactly what I expect you to do.

If I think of anything else that’s gross, I’ll be sure to let you know.

 

CRISIS IN PROGRESS, STILL IN PROGRESS

–Caller believes she has a prowler, because she can hear what sounds like someone moving around and sniffing. (I’m guessing the suspect was a dog, or some other type of beast.)

–Caller said, “I hope this apartment complex burns to the ground. I’m ashamed to live here.” We will pass that suggestion along to the fire department.

 

I am staying up too late, because I’ve been meaning to write this post for two days, and I feel guilty about putting it off. Was it worth it? You be the judge. You always are, after all.

Advertisements