Thursday, March 4, 2010

Double your freshness, double your fun...NOT!

Note: I had a different post all ready to go up this morning. Instead, I will be posting a rant and will save the gentle one for the future.

Last week I got some pretty new shoes. Unlike many around me, shopping for shoes (or any clothing for that matter) is an unpleasant experience. But running and ralking shoes are the one item of apparel that I take seriously. In fact, my running shoe specialist didn't have my size in stock so I'm waiting, impatiently, for the call saying they have arrived. (That's another rant for another day.)


Back to the original rant. I was able to get my everyday ralking shoes last week and am still enjoying how sparkly white they are. Twenty minutes ago I walked in the house and my brand-spanking new shoes were suddenly making a weird sound with each fall of my left foot on the tile floor.

Damn it! There was a big wad of GUM on the sole. Two more steps and that crap would have been ground into my carpet!


All grandchildren know that before entering my house there is a mandatory security checkpoint that they must go through. Mouths are opened and swabbed for any signs of bubblegum, breath-freshening gum or just plain old Doublemint Gum. If found, the offender is pointed in the direction of the garbage can and must listen to my anti-chewing speech for a minimum of five minutes before being released. Tears and complaints of how new the gum is fall on deaf ears.

I once was a compulsive gum-chewer. Oh yes, I could pop that gum both inside and outside of my mouth for hours on end. As a child I remember getting more than one haircut because it fell out of my mouth while asleep. That old pink Bubble Yum probably contributed to the mouthful of dental fillings that decorate my teeth.

When I am out ralking and numismatising the globs of gum that dot the asphalt is disgusting. Gum chewers have no qualms about sticking their used-up wads in public places. Drive-through windows are particularly notable for this as are telephone booths and handrails. And for heavens sakes, never, NEVER feel the underside of a restaurant table.

I won't even start on the grossness of some open-mouth chewers. Mirrors, anyone?

Rant over. I will now go to the garage to carve the glob of sugar-gumbase-cornsyrup-natural and artificial flavors-glycerol-aspartame-soy lecitin-asulfamaneK-mixed with saliva from a stranger out of my brand new shoes.

UGH!!!

$1.82

4 comments:

Sharyn said...

I'm behind you 100%...as an adult. You will be interested I'm sure, to know that as a kid I found the top to a restaurant table in our attic 'keep room' and spent a good number of weeks enjoying all the free gum. Till my mother finally wondered were I was getting all the gum from in the middle of nowhere.

I haven't thought about that for years...a veritable kid's lottery!
Sharyn

The Numismatist said...

Oh my, it's a good thing I haven't eaten dinner yet! But what a great story!

Muriel said...

Where did all that open gum come from?? Surely not your house?

The Numismatist said...

It was some very old stuff that had been here for ages. I chewed it just long enough to get the photo and then trashed it all.