Notes from Yesterday’s Walk — The Boogie Man.
Fortunately, when I finished yesterday’s walk, I had the presence of mind to jot down a note or two before I became busy doing other things, such as reading, dozing off, and writing the Old Bourbon post, which for Mr. Techno-Stoooopid was a challenge what with the pop-up images that had to be resized, saved, uploaded and plugged into the text. For many of you, that would be child’s play, but for me, it was like digging out multiple splinters.
Anyway, here’s the particular bit of disgusting douchebaggery I observed yesterday morning, while doing the walking thing.
I was approaching a man who had stopped on the sidewalk, when all of a sudden, he let loose with a bone-shaking sneeze that actually startled me, and I was probably sixty feet away from him at the time. I continued to walk in his direction, and he sneezed again – the same way only louder. He actually screamed each time he sneezed. When I was perhaps thirty feet away from the guy, he shook the ground with sneeze number three.
That was the startling part, but here’s the gross part.
Each one of those sneezes, full of sound and fury, produced copious amounts of spit, snot, boogers and honkers, (I assume in varying ratios, depending on the order of the sneeze) all of which he mostly caught in his hand. What didn’t get caught in his hand was presumably his gift to the townsfolk.
So, after startling the shit out of me with his thunderous sneezes and grossing me out by causing me to imagine what kind of vile soup must be in his hand, he then did the bend-forward-at-the-waist-put-one-finger-over-nostril-and-BLOW thing. He repeated the process with nostril number two, each time producing an eighteen-inch snot stalactite (snotlactite?), each of which he pinched off with his fingers and shook to the ground.
Can I get an ewwwwwww?
The asshole then immediately wiped his hands on his pants, turned and walked into the produce store, where you just KNOW he would be touching all the fruits and vegetables.
Can I get another ewwwwww?
I figure this story has two morals:
1. Don’t walk with me in the mornings, for I fear I am an asshole magnet.
2. Wash your farookin’ produce.
OMG – that is the grossest thing I’ve heard yet! EWWWWWWW doesn’t even begin to cover it. It’s even worse than the numbskulls who blow their noses over the mixing bar at Starbucks… Ugh I feel like gagging now!
Comment by Teresa — December 28, 2005 @ 9:10 pm
Ewwwwwwwwwww! Ewwwwwwwww! And just to get ahead of any further imagery that has been introduced into my mind, Triple Ewwwwwwwww!
Perhaps you should consider a new route on your constitutionals?
Comment by JCK — December 28, 2005 @ 10:02 pm
I think I’m gonna yack…
Comment by Bou — December 28, 2005 @ 10:18 pm
Ahh, the old Bowery Blow. Classic.
That’s revolting enough if you do it in the shower. In public? Feh.
Comment by Elisson — December 28, 2005 @ 11:13 pm
The Bowery Blow — what a great name. I learned that technique from my fellow long-distance runners, who do all manner of disgusting things in competition. For example, pissing your pants is considered an appropriate response to a full bladder when running a marathon. I prefer to take a power leak before the starting gun. And do wash your hands.
Comment by Mike Anderson — December 28, 2005 @ 11:31 pm
The Bowery Blow
Excellent.
Comment by Jim - Parkway Rest Stop — December 29, 2005 @ 5:05 am
I used to go with a guy who was a Snot Farmer. Of course, you never find out about the really gross stuff until after you hand over a key to your apartment. The relationship didn’t last long after that, and I steam cleaned my shower in celebration of its demise.
Comment by marydell — December 29, 2005 @ 9:29 am
Now everytime I buy produce I will be thinking 18″ Snotlactites. Gross!!!!
Comment by Vipergirl — December 29, 2005 @ 9:29 am
Thought SURE you were gonna say he wanted to shake your hand…
Comment by Jane — December 29, 2005 @ 1:14 pm
EWWWWWWW! Duly given. Yuck. Double yuck. TRIPLE yuck.
Comment by Pammy — December 29, 2005 @ 1:50 pm
I carry the grande size waterless cleanser in the car so that AFTER I buy snot-tinged vegetables–even before I get them home to run them through HazMat/quarantine–I can disinfect my hands after having touched anything this oblivious bird flu ambassador and snotfingers like him may have drooled on or coughed on or dribbled on or touched with their hot little stubby bird flu-y fingers.
Comment by dogette — December 29, 2005 @ 3:29 pm
YUCK!!!
Comment by Kristen — December 29, 2005 @ 5:29 pm
Uh, don’t ask me how I know, but that finger, nostril thing… It’s called a snot rocket, and you usually don’t have to cut ’em with a fork like a piece of spaghetti… the hope behind that move is for flight, not tether.
Just adds a bit more “weight” to your observations. Sorry you had to witness that man.
Comment by RedNeck — December 29, 2005 @ 6:58 pm
I think the more modern terms are,
“Air-Hanky”
or my favorite, the
“Snot Rocket”
FYI.
By the way, how about those dudes who use real hankerchiefs. Blow away and then tuck that sucker back into your pocket. Ewww.
Comment by WjcW — January 2, 2006 @ 12:28 pm