I plop onto the empty Bart seat, completely exhausted from a day of endless errands and nonstop traveling. I weakly pop on my headphones and drift into a mindless daze. I notice from the corner of my left eye a burly man in his early fifties chewing gum with his mouth open. I try to ignore it but the image of his mandible moving up and down is drilling into my head and I hear faint popping from the sugary treat. I increase the volume of my ipod nestled in my pocket hoping to distract my mind. It does not work. I pull out my agenda.
What else do I need to do today? Which buses do I need to take? What times are the upcoming appointments? Who do I need to see? How long will each meeting take?
As I try to remember these critical details, my eyes cannot help but notice the gum smacking again. Clearly, this man skipped etiquette school.
‘Hello sir. Do you know that smacking your gum looks quite unsexy?’
(in an awesome British accent)
‘Oh heavens no! No one has *ever* told me that. I cannot believe it has been bothering you this entire time. I am truly sorry and I shall stop at once.’
But of course, reality is not like so. I continue to be irked but I have come to terms with my fate. I sharpen my nails to pluck out my eyes for I would be blind than continue to endure this wretched torment. And then he is gone. He has disappeared. My brain settles into a pile of mush and what is left of my sanity seeps back into my empty cavity. Time to get my weary body home.
Moral of the story: chew your gum with your mouth closed or I’m going to rip out your tonsils.
Crackweasel Strikes Again 