gum-chuckers

I stepped in gum yesterday. I had forgotten just how instantly pissed off you get when you step in something like gum or...

I was simply returning a book at the library. I debated whether to even turn off my car; it was maybe a fifty foot walk to the return box from where I had parked. I strode back to the car happily, mentally checking the errand of my list when my flip flop hesitated to come off the ground. I knew immediately. And I was LIVID. I looked back and sure enough there it was... a bright orange blob of sun/concrete-heated melty bubble gum. It had stuck to the bottom of my shoe and flung up clinging to the back of my ankle. Frigging gross. My thirty second errand took a turn.

I don't even remember the protocol for wiping gum off random surfaces. I just knew that whatever works best wasn't going to be found in my bag. What was in my bag? Antibacterial hand gel and Wet Ones. I spent the better part of five minutes hanging halfway out of my door - flip-flopless, sweating and mumbling my distaste for the four young boys who had breezed past me earlier chomping their gum. The phrase Little Bastards may have come up once or twice. Sure, they were going to the library instead of tormenting elderly people but they still had the disrespect to chuck their gum in between cars in a parking lot. These kids today, eh?

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