So I’m in a local bookstore last week, waxing poetic on my laptop about midgets and JD Salinger, when this slightly-older-than-middle-aged gentleman and his equally grey female friend grab the table next to me.
I mean really. The guy had a NAPKIN next to his plate. Wouldn’t you forego the whole snot-in-your-pocket routine if you could? And don’t tell me he was being green. Oh and Mr. Hanky (not THAT Mr. Hanky!) did it 5 times. In 30 minutes. That borders on some sort of nasal drip, no?
“Hey Al Roker, did you know every time you flush the toilet you are spewing tiny fecal particles into the air, so shut that lid!”