For God’s sake lady, shut the fuck up.
A radical new treatment to make yourself less annoying, brought to you by the caring doctors from the Bittermac medical center.
I am sitting in a favored Starbucks, getting a migraine.
There is a vile yenta at the next table that has been talking nonstop into her phone for 15 minutes.
She may or may not be breathing, there are no discernible pauses for breath.
It seems that if there is a thought in that fleshy head of her’s, it will come spilling out of her mouth.
Her voice reminds me of Gladys Kravitz from the old Bewitched show, always pitchy and a little too dramatic.
And she does not seem to have a topic, she just talks.
Think of a statue in a fountain, but instead of water shooting out of its mouth non-stop, day in, day out, its words.
She has talked about her job, whoever she is talking to on the phone’s job, her cat, her sister, her mother (Who she had the balls to call annoying. You hypocritical bitch, she would have to be a serial killer to be annoying compared to you.) politics, guns, pudding, Isis, Italians, Jews, (And prefacing your comment with “Not to be racist” is TOTALLY racist. But you are right about the Italians.) the police, rap music and last but not least, buying online.
She just abruptly got up and left, but her stench lingers.
I can still hear her voice.
Like a form of coffee shop PTSD, this woman may have damaged me.
There is only so much that the human brain can put up with before it snaps.
I may become some sort of deviant now as a coping mechanism.
Ok, more of a deviant.
Thank god for coffee.
When in doubt, have a solid cup of coffee and shit will sort itself out.
Opiate of the masses.
Some more than others.
“Was she a yappy bitch or what?”
And a hush fell over the room.
Like a unicorn appearing to rescue you from evil, a homeless man at the next table has decided to voice what we all have been thinking.
Like a smelly prophet, he puts words to the feeling, the emotion that we all feel, but did it in a way that has spooked the herd.
And then the smell hits.
Ripe BO takes a little bit of the awesome out of the situation.
LIke lemon air freshener, it puts a little spin on the stench, but the stench is still there.
I wish I had some lemon air freshener.
What is the social stigma to pulling out a can of Lemon Fabreze and spritzing someone at the next table, all without saying anything?
Perhaps it is the type of thing that I could buy a pine tree air freshener and hang it around his neck as a gift?
But then it would smell like a pine tree with a dirty ass.
I realize that he is staring at me.
Great, I am his new friend.
No sudden moves, just keep it friendly.
That made him happy.
Happy homeless are less likely to attack and try to eat you. (Those who follow the news know this to be true. Why do people who use “Bathsalts” smell like that?)
The homeless guy left and I realize the similarity of Chatty bitch and the homeless guy.
Both left and their stench remains.
But, and this is an important thing, the smell of the homeless guy will fade.
But the psychic stench of Chatty Bitch will live on.