You Can Pick Your Friends...

Very Eligible
Originally uploaded by reallyct

Now, I'll be the first to admit that in the privacy of my own home, when I think devoted partner isn't looking (and sometimes, sadly, when he is), I do all of the following: nose picking, shower peeing, ingrown hair extracting, audible flatulence. If this lessens your esteem of me, you must not know me. However, I draw what I think is a not at all arbitrary line when it comes to appropriate private behavior and appropriate public behavior, and prolonged nose picking is way way way on the inside of the private line.

I understand that sometimes you need to clear your nasal passageway and are bereft of tissue - in these cases, emergency dispensation may be granted, provided the offender in question makes some nod to propriety.

This man, who looked mostly innocuous and like he a) had a job and b) had sex with humans, spent his entire commute searching for something (obviously very important that he had lost - like his dignity) with his finger in his nose and occasionally in his ear.

While he sat across from me.

I don't know how many times I can say this, but you people totally disgust me! In fact the only thing that keeps me from wishing the whole lot of you to a fiery death is the thought of this.

Ahhhhhhh. There, don't you feel better? I almost can forget Captain Fingerb@ngs His Nose.

But not quite. I am reminded more and more of the SNL skit Eddie Murphy did about putting on whiteface and learning that white people have a whole secret society thing with one another that they hide in the presence of non-white people. It's as though the denizens of Fairfield county have a secret alliance that enables them to behave while on the train (and before it stops at Fordham) as if none of them had ever attended Deerfield. I obviously have a totally skewed view of the world because I always thought that the price on paid to have a lifestyle that enabled one to shop at Brooks Brothers necessarily precluded such anti-social behavior as is in ample photographic display here (oh, and yeah, sorry if you were eating when you clicked on this). I'm surprised there aren't more of them with boomboxes blasting Michael Buble (and/or John Tesh depending on how current you want to be).

I am seriously reconsidering traveling with a spray bottle of water and treating my fellow passengers like misbehaving cats, but then I remember, no cat would be caught dead being as disgusting as this guy.