Letter 2

My wife made hotdogs for dinner the other night. Don't laugh, I have small kids. Anyway, we were eating while watching TV and everyone's eyes were fixed on the show. But I had seen it a million times so I was able to break my alpha-state trance and look around the room. When I did what I saw shocked me to the core.

My dear wife, who didn't realize I was watching, had decided she was going to try and stuff her hotdog in her mouth, bun and all. The shocking part was that she was successful. I immediately stood up and shouted, "I knew it!"

~

Speaking of hotdogs, I picked the perfect booger today. It was big, but it didn't stick to my finger. I was so amazed at its perfection that I almost forgot I was in a public place. Luckily nose picking is par for the course at the Varsity, so no one noticed. If they did they probably would have just assumed I was an employee.

Anyway, as soon as I remembered that I was surrounded by people I flicked the booger away. I was shocked at how far it went, and immediately I knew it was headed for trouble.

This big jock-giant, who incidentally had been being a jerk to his girlfriend, and to the cashiers, and to the other customers, had his mouth wide open to stuff a fist full of French fries in it when my projectile landed on his tongue. His mouth instantly closed, his nose crinkled, and his eyes squinted. He definitely knew what he had in his mouth. "Who did that?" he hollered.

I quickly turned and faced the other way. "Who did what?" his girlfriend asked, irritated.
"Who flicked a booger in my mouth!" he yelled.
"What?" she asked again.
"A booger, dammit! A booger.... in my mouth. Something just landed in my mouth that tasted exactly like a booger."

The jock-giant stood up. I was looking the other way, trying to stuff my hotdog in my mouth as fast as I could. Even still, I could tell by the sound of the chair and table sliding across the floor, and of the building's foundation creaking, that this guy was huge. "You!" his voice boomed, and a chill ran down my spine. I almost gagged on my hotdog.

His footsteps approached my seat and he slapped his hand down next to me. It easily covered a quarter of the table. "You," he said quietly, but quite angrily.
"What?" I said in a poor attempt to sound innocent and confused.
"You flicked a booger in my mouth."
"Oh, I don't think so," I said.
"Oh, I think you did," he said as he pulsed with an inhuman amount of muscles.
"Well, what did it taste like?" I asked before I could stop myself.
"It tasted like a damn booger."
"You mean salty, kinda slimey?" I said. I was surprised at how cool I was taking this.
"Yeah, exactly," he said.
"No," I said. "It couldn't have been mine. My boogers are sweet, never bitter."

The giant paused at this. He seemed to have hit a road block. "Prove it," he finally said.
"Ask anyone," I stammered. To my surprise most of the patrons, who had gathered around to witness my demise, nodded in ascent.
"Let me taste one," he said mightily. "I want to see for myself."

So with everyone watching, I closed my eyes and plunged my finger deep into my nostril. Unfortunately its caverns were pretty much barren. All I managed to find was a tiny spec of something yellowish. I held it up on my finger and the restaurant audibly winced.

The giant jock looked at me. Then he looked at the booger. Then his eyes scanned over the crowd, looking for someone to scream at; someone to pummel and be his escape. But everyone looked on with innocent, silver-dollar eyes. His fate was set.

I don't know how I expected the mucous transfer to go down, but I did not anticipate that the dude would just wrap his slippery, nasty lips around my finger and suck the goober right off. Slowly he pulled away from my finger, leaving it drippy with slobber, then he savored the morsel. I quickly wiped my finger on my shirt.

The giant was disconcerted. He was frustrated. "Well?" someone in the crowd hollered, but the jock didn't turn fast enough to see who it was. "It was too small an amount to tell!" he barked at the crowd.
"Oh God. Can we just go?" his girlfriend pleaded.
"Pick another one!" he yelled at me.

Again I put my finger in my nostril. This time I used a different finger, and the other nostril. And by chance I hit upon something solid. It took some work, but I was able to loose it free. When I pulled my finger out of my nose another glorious, huge booger came forth; complete with nose hair.

"Ugh," the crowd moaned, and a little girl ran to the bathroom. But the goliath wasted no time. He wrapped his mouth around my finger and pulled the booger free like it was a candied cherry.

A lady fainted.

"It's salty!" he roared.

At that point I go the ever-lovin'-crap kicked out of me. But I really think it was worth it.


signed
August 7, 2006

Ps. When possible, I recommend not flicking your boogers into the mouths of giant, athletic jock types. But it's better than eating them yourself. Ultimately it's a choice only you can make.