There I was, walking to school one day in the early morning, walking at the same pace as a fellow on the other side of the street. He first started out whistling, and my reactive thought was something along the lines of "it's way to early to be that happy." Then the whistling turned into something of a cough. A cough of the wet crackly sort. The kind in which you can perceive mucousy nasties threatening to emerge if any more gut is used behind the sputtering. "Ew," was my next thought.
Pretty soon, a couple sneezes are being intermixed with such coughs. I couldn't bring myself to glance over, but I'm pretty sure I could see the germs projecting forward, emanating all kinds of ooze and bacteria even with a whole street separating us.
"Yuck," was the only thing occupying my brain.
Next thing I know my ears are being assaulted by the sounds of a nose sniffing in all kinds of garbly goop with great force, followed by a hefty attempted outward intestine flinging blow.
"Gross," permeated through my mind. I found myself subconsciously walking a bit faster.
Combining all 3 is a euphemism for toxicity, deadliness, contagion, and all things noxious. This is only something sweet nurturing mothers taking care of pure and innocent sickly children should have to experience. I'm not a mother, and he is no cute, unassuming child, and I wished he hadn't shared that experience with me. I could have done without that onslaught of my senses. Please, it'll be best for human-kind if you just stayed home tomorrow.
