saltytom

This space might need a name change to saltytom just as justification for my recent rash of behavior. Take last night for instance… (when I have no idea what punctuation to use I go with 3 dots. I know that’s wrong but I’m going for a signature style of ignorance here) I was at the airport 5 hours early for my red-eye flight from LA back to Chicago desperately seeking an earlier getaway. I got on an eight o’clock flight that would put me home around 2:00am. Better than six so I jumped on it. I had been speaking all day and my throat was killing me plus I hadn’t had a Diet Poison all day either so my head was thumping. Still I was attempting a pleasant resting face while I people watched.

While we waited to board the plane a fellow baldy in the line next to me was applying what seemed to be a giant chapstick to his head. I was interested so I watched the entire application process. He was very thorough and it made me smile knowing I would never care that much about the skin covering my skull.

Now we are on the aircraft and he is 2 rows ahead (stumbled on that unintentional punny word. sorry) of me putting on another coat. It was a long flight and I caught sight of the half time apply and while we were waiting to disembark he did a little touchup. I got my luggage and found myself next to him in the prearranged taxi waiting area where he popped the cap on his stick and started again. I must have been had a full-on entertained face because he wheeled on me and asked what I thought was so funny.

I apologized and said I was tired and a little punchy but that wasn’t good enough for him. He possibly mistook what I said as weakness because he got a little louder and said something about knowing I was watching him the entire flight. Other freezing where the hell is my cab people were paying attention now and I didn’t like the turn we were taking so my brain shifted into shitty.

I started with something about a douche for the top of his head and let him know that whatever the reason for the stick it wasn’t working. He was still an ugly bald prick just like me except he had this nervous smear-giant-chapstick-on-his-head thing going that cracked me up. He started to talk again but I cut him off explaining that he could cut down his audience if he were a little less dramatic about his special moisturizer or waterproofing or hair fertilizer routine. He kept trying to talk and I kept spitting out bad one liners;

  • Maybe you should belt out show tunes while you do it?
  • Closing your eyes and humming real loud would get you some looks.
  • Don’t they make a two handed version of that applicator?
  • Do they have one with a bell on it?

He had given up by the time his cab pulled up and I was tired anyway. I don’t know where that shit comes from. Maybe my pleasant resting face is a salty pick a fight with me face. I need to start glancing into more reflective surfaces.

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