Thursday, September 14, 2006

She's blogging about boogers?

Early 20th Century New York had Typhoid Mary, and contemporary Chicago has a little known, but very serious public health threat.

His name is Boogerstache. And I had all but forgotten him until yesterday.

It was a lovely day in Chicago several years back when friends and I were dining and drinking alfresco at a neighborhood pub. A waiter there—we’ll call him Joe—knew us as regulars and came out to the patio to take our order.

“Ladies, what’ll it be?” He asked.

As we each looked up from the menu to tell him what we wanted, we saw something that would scar us for years to come. A chunk of snot was smeared into Joe’s black moustache.

Now you’d think our appetites would have instantly disappeared, and we would have jumped up screaming from the table. Didn’t happen. We placed our orders and you can imagine our horror when he came back with the food, the booger was gone.

Where did the booger go? That, my friends, was the million dollar question. Of course we took our chances and ate and drank with reckless abandon. Later that year, Jennifer called me to relay that she had seen the offender, now forever named Boogerstache, crossing Taylor “with his index finger buried to the third knuckle” deep in his nose.

Ready to hurl yet?

So yesterday I walk into a market I frequent and I see a familiar silhouette. As I get closer I hear this guy—wearing the store’s uniform—trying to pick some chick. I pass them, he looks at me. He freezes. Yes, Boogerstache, I know about your sordid, snot-smeared past.

I called Jennifer and left a frantic message.

I bet he works in the deli making coleslaw and the like. And I really need to consider Peapod.

10 comments:

Darby Turnipseed said...

Yeah, that was pretty gross. At first I was just giggling to myself(yes, men can giggle), but then there was some sort of delayed-reaction, because now I'm feeling kinda sick. My brain keeps trying to picture what kind of booger it was, if it was wet and slimy or hard and dry, and I can't stop. Thanks, angie. Thanks a lot.

t2ed said...

I'm never ordering coleslaw from anywhere ever again.

Anonymous said...

Oh, come on, what's all the fuss about, really?

So some snot got caught in his moustache and he neglected to check in the mirror, so what?

Do you really think just because of thist single event he has a habit of sneezing into your food before delivering it?

If so, did you take your paranioa medication regularly?

I really don't get what you're complaining about, but perhaps you'd care to elaborate.

Anyway, it's a pleasure to read your blog most of the time :-)

Take care,

Jo.

Angie T said...

Jo, work with me here;-)--I was trying to be funny. My brain has seriously been fried from work all week. Thanks for posting your comment(and reading!)I'm getting sick of reading comments from the same two jerks all the time.

Make that three .. . Chad? Where are you?

Anonymous said...

WELL WHAT KIND OF BOOGER WAS IT?

WHY WOULD'NT YOU TELL THE MAN?

OH AND YOU WILL BE GETTING A TOUCH OF REALITY THIS WEEKEND? LP AND MOTHERS ANYONE?

PIZZA IS GOOD! EXCEPT FOR THE NEW LASAGNA THING FROM PIZZA HUT!

t2ed said...

Yeah, those two jerks commenting all the time really frosts my....

Hey, waitaminute.....

Bottle Rocket Fire Alarm said...

At least his fly wasn't unzipped with his handless babywrist flopping out and about.

Anonymous said...

Who and the hell is jo. Sounds like you need prozac!

nobich said...

Well gee thanks I was eating my lunch while I was reading this post I don't know what grossed me out me more the post itself or the comments, but thanks.

Anonymous said...

who the hell is jo?! how could it possibly be excusable to serve food with a big green booger on your face? you obviously need to get laid, buddy.