Wednesday, April 7

Loogies? Venom? Or Marking Territory?

FYI.For the faint at heart, this post will be gross.
But if you are one of those people, why are you reading my blog?

For the longest time, I have tried to understand the need to SPIT.

When I was a smoker (9 months clean), I felt that sometimes there was a taste in my mouth that had to be eliminated. And sometimes if I accumulated enough liquid in my mouth and expelled that liquid, the taste would go away.

Nictotine + tar = Bad taste in mouth
Need to get rid of bad taste = Need to spit
It makes sense. I get it. And I sympathize, to a degree.
But LET ME TELL YOU, people:
I have maybe spat on the ground in public 3 times in my entire life.
1 of those times was actually vomitting.
So I don't know if it counts.
Excessive drinking = Loopy Feisty Actress losing her glasses = VOMITTING

It's not pretty.

The other 2 times, I might have been too far from a bathroom
to get rid of whatever I had in a more polite fashion.
But.... Hocking a loogie and spitting it out?

NASTY!

Here is a clear example:

Yesterday, as I was sitting on my stoop in front of my apartment, I saw a horrendous sight.
A big, hairy, excessively sweaty monster, aka a man, was walking down my block, hmming and humming and hawwing and coughing.... At the same time, a beautiful black woman looking like she just stepped out of an Ebony Magazine was walking up the street (in the opposite direction of the man) and was looking like she was late for a very important date.

And then... yes, the most disgusting thing actually happened.

As the monster hocked up his mucus-spit combination in his mouth and exploded it from the cavity which looked like his mouth, I YELLED or Half-Screamed: "OH NO!".


HIS SPIT HIT THE POOR BLACK LADY!!!!!


Oh.... she cussed him out something fierce. It was brilliant.
But I felt bad for her. She had his SPIT on her shirt. AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!

I would've beaten the hell out of him.


But then, she kept screaming: GIVE ME $50!!!
And he kept saying: WHY?
Her: Because you spat on my shirt, and it cost me $50.
Him: WHY?
Her: Do you NOT get it? You need to give me $50.
Him: WHY?
Her: (to me) Can you believe this sh*t??

And after much back and forth, the man seemed to give her whatever was in his pocket, and she looked like she was going to go wherever she was off to in the first place.

(Personally.... I would've taken the money and gone home. I ain't going anywhere with SPIT on me. HELL NO!)
Are you a camel? Are you a poisonous spitting snake?
Or are you simply warning other men to not step on your particular street?
NO!
For every person on the street who I have seen spit,
and it is MOSTLY men,
you all should give me $50.

That would stop people.

Or... move to Singapore! They love it there.

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