Wednesday, October 21, 2009
The trouble with being in public places....
Sometimes, it royally sucks to be stuck in a public place, listening to someone else's inane conversation. This morning, I happened to be at JFK, waiting for my flight. Let me back up by saying that I have been a bit under the weather the past 2 days, and this morning woke up feeling worse, not better. So, there I sat, with my sore throat, my missing voice, and low-grade general nausea. The section near my gate was crowded, but I managed to find a seat. Too nauseous to do anything other than play Solitaire on my iPhone and sip my tea, I became unintentionally engrossed in the conversation of the loud people sitting behind me.
These 4 people engaged in a heated debate, for 45 minutes!!!!, over hot dogs and malt balls. They argued over what the best hot dog brands were, how many they can eat, what region of the country boasts the tastiest franks. They each felt it necessary to go into detail about the taste, snap and meatiness of different variations. At 8 am, with a queasy stomach, this was like being trapped in a hell. I felt too weak to leave, and was also somewhat drawn in, to the stupid banter. My ears were like looky-loo eyes watching a car crash.
Then, when I thought the grossness had reached its peak, they introduced the topic of malt balls. Malt balls? Really? This is a popular topic of conversation? It was introduced by a woman who proudly stated that she enjoys eating malt balls with her hot dog. Puke. I am not a big fan of malt balls to begin with, but the idea of crunching on them with a fucking hot dog was too much. I wanted to turn around and say, "why don't you smear some mayonnaise (barf) on them too!"
Alright, enough of my stupid rant. Sadly, the experience is still haunting me from 35,000 feet. Please, people of the world, if you're gonna be gross, can you keep it to a whisper?
hot dog dogs