Nothing to sneeze at (pt. 2)

When I sneezed into my hand, I blew the resulting spewage sideways onto the glass. That was why my hand was clean. Now, the window is covered (in a rather pretty design, mind you) full of nasal excrement. Ewww.

Wanting to ignore the other passengers and their looks of disgust, I calmly raise my newspaper to cover my head and open it to the middle. Bad move.

Since the glass can’t be completely covered, splatter is still seen from the side. That, and with the sun blazing through the window, the snot is now being reflected onto the newspaper – creating two images of the same train wreck.

There is no way to remove the incriminating evidence. The other three passengers in my cubicle know it was me, so I can’t divert the blame onto some other person. This works when someone passes gas, not when someone sneezes.

What to do? What the fuck am I going to do? The options race through my head. None of them are logical, apart from suicide.

The only reasonable option, beside pulling out a bottle of Windex and some paper towel and wiping the crap off the glass, is to stay in the same position. Keep the paper elevated and open and pretend to read the same articles over and over again until the train stops at the station.

And, that is what I do.

The train stops at the station, and I make sure the other three passengers leave before me. When they’re getting up from their seats, I turn my body sideways to cover some of the mess, lest they are grossed out at the start of the day.

With them gone, I pick up my bag, leave the paper behind, and walk away. When the cleaning people pass through to remove the garbage, I’ll let them deal with my spewage.