There are two people that have been forced into my life. Two dudes that have nothing in common other than the ability to skeeve me out of my skin. One sits across from me in my office, the other takes the same train I do every morning.
I’m not sure what the train guy does for a living, but judging by his gruff appearance, it’s safe to assume he’s a hard working blue-collar tradesman of some sort. He’s a wiry man probably in his early forties, a bit too grey for his age and wears the same tattered grey sweatshirt every day. He sports an industrial type lunch pail and a hand-truck enhanced toolbox that he carts back and forth to “the job”.
The guy in my office is your typical Wall Street asshole whot makes too much money, thinks he’s under paid and has owned a 15% stake in some lost cause, money losing, trendy bar for the past three years that he never talks about because he chose to ignore all the statistics, everybody’s advice and thought it would be cool to own a bar.
What do these two men have in common you ask? Neither of these filthy animals has ever been taught that clipping your fucking nails is something you do at home in the bathroom with the door closed. Not something you fucking do on the Long Island Rail Road when the guy next to you has to hold his hand over his cup so you’re nasty little nail fragments don’t go flying into his god damn morning coffee. It’s unbelievable. This guy actually wears his nail clipper on a key-chain that hangs from his belt loop. Why would they manufacture such a product..?
I’m sitting there at my desk, eating my lunch and… CLIP!.. CLIP!..CLIP! What the fuck! This is a fucking professional office guy! This guy needs a stapler to the head pronto.
We all clip our nails. Does it take a degree in rocket science to figure out those filthy little clippings project through the air? Nail clippings are not prejudice. Clippings will land just about anywhere they feel like…on the floor, your desk, in the hair of the guy in front of you, in his chicken noodle soup… the list goes on. It’s not so much the fingernails, it’s the gross shit under the fingernails after routine scratching and picking that I have the problem with.
I’m convinced this is the same guy that trims his balls in the office too. Every month or so you look down into the urinal and there’s so much pubic hair clumped up in the bottom it looks like crab grass growing in the bottom of the damn thing.
Wake up People,
Dopey
