There is a man I see most mornings on the GO Train platform. He is rather tall, freakishly thin and has a somewhat concave posture. He walks like an Olympic speed walker, swinging his briefcase as though he’s in a military parade.
As he plows his way across the platform, he practically pushes people aside, marching to his spot, about three cars from the front. When he gets there, he is miles ahead of everyone else.
He glances back—just to be sure he’s alone—then he walks over to the platform edge, presses a finger against one nostril, inhales deeply, and shoots a snot rocket that would make any yokel green with envy. No pun intended.
This happens most days and it’s beyond gross.
It’s fucking disgusting.
So, I have a message for Skinny Douchebag:
Grow up. You’re not a kid anymore. Show a little class. You wear a fucking suit to work, for chrissake, and carry a briefcase like a grown up. Try to act like one.
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