So I’m sitting on the bus today and that’s fine, buses are cool, they get me to where I’m going. This isn’t a rant about buses, but if it were I’d complain that I seem to be a mental magnet on buses. They take one look at me and think “Yes, that girl absorbed in her book, with headphones on, not paying me any attention whatsoever would be very receptive to my mental advances, let’s just grab her boob and see what she does. Girls like that I hear.”
So I’m on the bus and although there are several unoccupied seats the lady asks to sit next to me. Despite my worldly belongings taking up the free seat and despite the fact that I affect a highly grumpus demeanour when on public transport (reason: see above.) The woman herself was tolerable, what she did next however, was not. Chewing. Gum.
Yes. I am going to dedicate an entire blog post to a rant about such a seemingly innocuous subject as chewing gum.
I have one hate in my life. I’m mostly an easy-going kinda gal. I mean sure, I don’t like being molested on buses and I think your children are really nothing special but other than that, I’m nice and relaxed and chill. Not when it comes to chewing gum. I hate chewing gum more than dogs hate hoovers. I hate it so much it makes my spine tingle. When someone is sitting next to me chewing gum I feel quite panicked. I find the relentless mastication, where you can actually HEAR the inside of someone’s mouth and the movement of their tongue, sickening.
What’s more it’s such a grimey substance. It’s sticky and icky and if you accidentally touch someone else’s chewing gum it feels like you’ve reached inside them and tickled their repressed memories, it just feels wrong. And if you sit on it? Or it gets in your hair? Forget about it.
Why must people chew? There’s even something so unpleasant about the taste: synthetic spearmint. I know it supposedly freshens breath but so do mints! Mints are great, I’d ate the shit out of a roll of mints.
Chewing gum, go fuck off.