The other night the Chicago Bulls beat the Sacramento Kings (thank God!) and although it was fun to finally see a win, I nearly killed a young high school boy that was there with the rest of his high school basketball team.
I’m sitting on the end of the isle and this kid comes running up the stairs leaping 3 steps at a time (I’ve always been jealous of people who could do that, and whistle with their two fingers stuck in their mouth). I noticed him because he was wearing shorts and a t-shirt (significant because it’s January in Chicago and there was a freakin snow storm THAT NIGHT). Instead of sitting in a seat, he sits on the stairs, immediately beside me. And he starts to talk about vomiting.
“I just threw up, dude!”
“(other) Dude, I just puked!”
“My mom puked earlier today.”
“I feel better than I’ve felt all day!”
I’m not sure if I’ve told you about this before but I have a severe gag-reflex. If anybody vomits anywhere by me, I’ll vomit. If I hear the sound of somebody vomiting, I gag and have to focus really hard on not vomiting.
So all this talk about vomiting is grossing me the fuck out and it’s pissing me off all at the same time because, well, it’s rude and disruptive! And tickets to these games ain’t cheap! Not only is it putting me in a bad mood, it’s making me nauseous and at risk of breaking my no-vomit streak (I’ve got one going just like Seinfeld.)
The strangest thing to me is that, it’s not like this kid was bragging or trying to gross out his friends, he just vehemently needed for all of them to know that he’d just vomited. It’s like he felt it was his duty to tell them. Me? I could care less! All I’m thinking about is his germy ass is all up in my personal space, so I’m liable to be puking in the morning, my damned self. And I’m wondering why he doesn’t call his puking mom to come pick his puking ass up. We’re all in danger of getting sick! Why is nobody else outraged! I’m growing increasingly pissed off and I keep telling my guy who can’t understand why I’m fixated on vomit boy and keeps telling me to ignore it because he knows I’m borderline crazy and I’m not afraid to cuss the kid out over it.
“Do I smell like puke? I can still smell it - can you guys smell it?”
That’s it - I can’t take anymore. “DUDE - THAT IS SO GROSS!” And just as I turn to say it, he’s spits, and a big long string of vomit-tinged spit comes stringing out of his mouth and down onto the concrete stairs. He’s openly spitting right on the stairs where we all have to walk.
“Sorry, I just vomited” he turned and said to me apologetically.
You should have seen the look on his face. He needed me to know, too. It was as if the fact that he’d just vomited took precedent over the entire basketball game, my physical health, my money, my night out with my boyfriend, and gave him a free pass to openly spit left-over vomit in areas where we walk. I maintain that this is bad parenting!
We’ve been talking a lot lately about how gross men/boys can be. The other night I went into the “family bathroom” at the movie theatre and it was just disgusting. Urine everywhere! On the floor, on the seat! When I returned to my seat to complain about it to my guy, he responded like he always does. “Men are pigs, I keep trying to tell you that.” Well, I’m not experienced with this crap. My father and brother were not burping farting peeing-where-pee-doesn’t belong guys. My boyfriend isn’t, either. I’ve never seen a drop of urine on my toilet seat or, God forbid, the floor.
If you have an opinion on what causes men to be so gross, please let me know. Is this innate? Bad parenting?