Sunday, March 8, 2015

It's the Little Things You Notice...

Ever been in a packed elevator, standing behind someone who, although they probably bathed that morning...has not washed their hair in about 6 days?  It’s that ‘odor’ that permeates the immediate space around them...and anyone who is close enough to have a conversation.  I hate to say this, but it’s usually the mens who are guilty of this personal hygiene offense.  Guys, if you take the time to shave, WASH YOUR HAIR!

And, how about the person with whom you are conversing exhibiting that little string of saliva that goes from their top center lip to their bottom center lip.  It is impossible not to laser focus on that string.  It’s morbidly fascinating to watch as they talk, because you’re waiting for the string to break or just go away.  You want them to simply lick their lips, which would eliminate the problem, but they never do.  I have often been tempted to just reach to their mouth and peench it OFF!

Ear hair is bothersome to me...I mean, I don’t have ear hair...but I notice it on those who do...again...usually men.  It’s such a shame that there is no way to use a mirror to look into your ear.  You know who you are though, so buy one of those laser thingys that they sell for $19.95 on TV and get rid of your ear hair.  It’s just offputting.

Finally, don’t ever sniff your fingers while you’re talking to someone.  It doesn’t matter where those fingers have been.  This is just not something that one does in polite company. I used to ‘know someone’ who frequently rubbed his ear lobe, then sniffed his thumb and forefinger as they were pinched together.  It’s not something you can ask them about...”Honey, why do you sniff your fingers like that?”  I’ve just never been curious about how an ear lobe smells.

These are but a few, select, disgusting curiosities that have always intrigued me.  And you are probably, at this very moment, thinking of a few of your own!

I notice the big things.  I especially notice when big, fat women wear really tight Spandexish tank tops and shorts.  They have just given up.  Their muffin rolls around their wastes are bulging out, their arm fat is hanging down behind them to touch the roll, and they look like they are just proud as punch to be the biggest hippopotamus on the beer isle at ‘Safeway.’  Come on!  Have some pride!  I’m overweight too but I cover up my muffins with linen shirts, and I wouldn’t be caught dead in a pair of shorts.  You have so much cellulite on your thighs that it jiggles like the lime Jello you made for your Bubba-hubby for lunch at the Frisbee park.  So you think, ‘Oh, I know, I’ll just put on those day-glo, yellow, beach trunks that my man bought at the Disney Land gift shop in 1973,’ and hit the Safeway store for the afternoon’s daily sustenance.

I hate feet.  I have never seen a pretty pair of feet.  It seems like every person with funky toes and crusty heels feels like they need to wear flip flops so that everybody can see their contorted feet.  Sorry people, but putting on a pair of jewel-encrusted flip flops is not going to help the fact that your feet look like a commercial for toe-mold jelly.  Put some shoes on for God’s sake!  Or at least put on some sandals that cover up that bunion that looks like the blunt end of a hammerhead.  I don’t want to see it sticking out from under the red-and-white-checked, plastic, table cloth while I’m trying to order baby-back ribs at Tony Roma’s.

And finally, women, after you take a nap in your Barco Lounger while snoozing through ‘The View,’ and you decide to run to the dry cleaners to pick up your 86-year-old mother’s 27 house dresses, remember to fluff out the back of your hair so that your bald spot doesn’t show and your hair isn’t flattened into what looks like a crop circle.  It just bugs me.

Try harder to present yourself to the world in a way that is marginally acceptable.  I’m just sayin.’


No comments: