Friday, January 27, 2006

Can you dig it?

So, today I was just driving along minding my own business, ladies and gentlemen, MINDING MY OWN BUSINESS. I pull up at this stop light, and the guy behind me decides that he doesn't need to stop until he's fucking sitting in my backseat. Or close enough. Too close for comfort--that's for sure. Anyway, one of the unfortunate side effects with Mr. Hippocket is that when I look in either my rearview mirror or my side mirror, all I can see is his bigfathead.

So, once again, while I'm sitting at this stoplight, MINDING MY OWN BUSINESS, I happen to look in my rearview mirror and notice that Mr. Bigfathead Hippocket is second-knuckle-deep in his own lovely nose. And I didn't want to look, but it was like a train wreck. The sheer horror of the situation kept drawing my attention back to it. I couldn't help but think, "Man, he's really cleaning that nostril out!!" After a couple seconds, I couldn't allow myself to look any longer. I flipped through a few songs on Mypod and tried my best to keep busy. "Don't look, don't look, don't look," I kept telling myself. And I really didn't want to look. But I couldn't help it.

After a minute or so, I decided it should be safe, and I did the cordial thing--check to make sure everything came out all right. And, if this was even possible, it looked like maybe he now had two fingers up the nostril this time. Now he was like a circus freak. I couldn't look away even if I wanted to. The light turned green and we both proceeded to enter the expressway.

As we both waited to pay our tolls, I happened to glance up again, thinking surely after three minutes he couldn't possibly have anything left to pick. Wrong. What did I see? The spin cylce, ladies and gentlemen--he was actually twisting his finger around in the nostril. Dear lord!

Now, it's worthy of mention that we were in a very high traffic area. It's not like we were on a one-lane road. There were cars on all sides of his car, but he apparently didn't care or thought he had one-way windows. And, on the tollway, right near the toll, there are really no lane markers. You can reach out and touch the cars on either side of you because they are so close. He might as well have been sitting in the lap of the passenger in the car next to him.

After about 5 minutes, I got through the toll and lost track of this guy. I bet he's still picking now. "What's the point of this story?" you're probably wondering, and rightfully so. The point is that I had to witness something truly disgusting and now I need to share it, so that rather than being a voyeur, I can be a victim.

Friends, I implore you, don't pick and drive. It's so unbecoming.

1 comment:

elisa said...

Oh, my! At least if you're going to pick, pick quickly!!! LOL

You are a hoot!