some of you may be acquainted with 'throw away!' both the war cry and subsequent nickname of a crazy corridormate of mine. and today, she really got to me.
i'd left my brand new cosmo on the dining table while cooking lunch because, well, who puts a flammable magazine on the stove?! and then suddenly there she was, blowing her drippy nose into her bare hands and then licking the tips of the fingers as she causally flipped the pages of my magazine. lest you think i'm equally psychotic, i usually don't have issue with random strangers browsing my ever-important periodicals. just that i'd prefer if the sickie exercised proper hygiene (it's called kleenex) and some modicum of courtesy ("oh hey, is the magazine yours? mind if i have a look?") but nope! muscus-coated hands trawling through my cosmo. i swear it's got sticky pages now. truly the stuff of nightmares.
when i finally brought my lunch over to the dining table and sat down in ostensible silence, she didn't even bat an eyelid. oh, but after establishing that it was mine, she asked if she could have it when i was done. and then she asked me what my name was,
HAHA.
i'll have to think about that one.
No comments:
Post a Comment