Spare the spit

Picture the scene, no, imagine walking home from uni after falling asleep in a lecture due to an ill-timed hangover. You are trudging along the paved floor hoping to get there fast so that you may crash on the communal sofa. Your vision is blackened by the dark lenses over your heavily lidded eyes. It is while turning a corner and passing two lovely young gentlemen that you hear a strange sound and look around. It is only when you look down at your shoes at an attempt to shut out the light from the bloody sun that you see something on your shoe. Don’t be gum, don’t be gum… gum is one thing, you can scrape it off and disinfect your shoe on the front mat. But what you see in infinitely more frustrating, you see spit, dripping down your shoe, coating the laces like loose windscreen wipers, feeling grateful that you had not worn flip flops.

You soldier home and manage to wipe the most mucus filled part off your shoe on the grass, stumble into your flat and promptly pass out on your bed. When you wake you look around and try to mix up an old family recipe cure for your pounding head; on the way, your feet now clad with a pair of novelty socks your granny gave you three years ago and you notice that there is something stuck to them… gum, don’t be gum, or a used condom… no it is the spit you previously trekked through the house, now squelching between your toes. Gum is fine; you can peel it off or bin those disgusting socks that granny made. But now you have the knowledge that there are unspecified bacteria and virus cells worming their way between your toes. You also now have the guilt of burning your present from poor old granny, as well as the hassle of getting tested for savvies.

CAN ANYONE TELL ME WHY? Was there a fad I missed, do people now think that street sweepers might as well mop as well, is the Nile drying up, do people now believe that swallowing spit makes the fluid back up into your brain until you look like Stewie Griffin? I have only seen one girl spit in my life and even then she had less going for her than Bon Jovi without teeth. Hey guys, it is great to hear that you like spitting, why not tell your significant other.

I wouldn’t mind people spitting if there was a reason, but unfortunately we don’t have the excuse that our air is as polluted as the floor of the Pacific Ocean after the BP oil spill. Some people have told me that people do it to look like their favourite footballers, if this was the case I am more than sure that people who spat would have started tapping live chinchillas to their heads for extra body and movement, to try and replicate Rooney’s transplant. Maybe they would have started eating more Italian, Suárez seems to like it enough. Maybe fans should show their appreciation by having it off with a mature curb walker… no? THEN STOP SPITTING ON MY SHOES!

Charly Wren

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