As I pulled up next to your truck last evening on the way home from work, I have to admit, I was already a bit cranky. I was sick, I was tired, and had a headache the size of a small continent. I really didn't take too much notice of you at all, until you did something that I almost choke thinking about : You spit. Out the window. ON. MY. CAR.
You may not have noticed. I mean, heck, I have trouble seeing large car-sized objects all the time, especially when they are right next to me. How were you to know that other cars would actually drive on the road at the same time as you and you should LOOK before you decide to make the side of the road (or anywhere for that matter) your personal spitoon.
I can't imagine what a poor germophobe would've done with your loogie on their car. I'm bad enough about spit, I can't type the word loogie without wanting to throw up, let alone look at such a thing. I can't even share a spoon with my husband most of the time because I hate spit that much. So imagine what a stranger's spit must do to me. I can't even type anymore, because I'm fighting my gag reflex too hard. (seriously, my eyes are watering).
So let's just say that on top of everything else that yesterday threw at me, your spit in the wind was just not called for.
Not Charmed,
Me
1 comment:
A little piece of me just died.
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