Posted on October 6, 2012
This week’s lesson: Nose Picking. Basic human function with basic good form potential. Let’s keep this simple…
- Pick your picker in private: No one, NO ONE wants to witness this function. No matter the audience or situation, when the urge strikes and you are visible to others, please refrain yourself and remove yourself. Once in a private setting, go nuts. This brings us to point #2.
- Use a paper tissue: If you find the need to explore your nose at the dining table, kindly excuse yourself and move to a rest room for tissue use. NEVER use a cloth napkin at the table for the job.
- Cleanse: Wash your hands or at the very least use antibacterial hand sanitizer when you’ve satisfactorily accomplished your mission. This is critical for one reason only; preventing the spread of germs. Booger remnants have germs and there is no possible way you can convince me that you wiped it clean. If that is not motivation for you to cleanse then picture this mental slide show:
You’ve been invited to a party. You arrive and there standing across the room is THE ONE of your dreams. After thanking the angels, you approach. You move slowly as not to appear too eager and desperate but rapid enough so someone else does snap up your little treasure. You near the personal space of your future spouse. Warmly but excitedly you extend your hand to introduce yourself. What you don’t know is that one hour before your fated meeting, he/she conducted the following activity:
Your prospect stopped at the gas station to fill up the tank. After handing over $78 bucks for the fill and $2 bucks for a pack of Tic Tacs, he/she hit the drive-through for a quick Junior Whopper with cheese. Sounds all well and good, right? Not so fast. Consider this:
62 people had wrangled their mitts on the same gas pump handle that day. 12 of the 62 adults had kids who attended the same birthday party that afternoon. Five of those kids were in various communicable stages of the flu which included runny noses, commonly shared toys and a sandbox. Due to the unseasonable hot weather, the sand box became a shared petri dish of unmentionable germ loving proportion.
The packet of Tic Tacs had been handled by 12 other people that day – one of which was an over-the-road trucker who hadn’t washed in three days, suffered from nose-crusting allergies and an apathetic attitude.
The fast food attendant had just been dumped by his girlfriend. He spent the last three hours crying and blowing his nose with heartbreaking agony. It was 6pm on a Saturday; busy time in the food industry. No time to wash.
Good thing your beloved had the good sense to wash up after mining their own gold.