Written by Brett Taylor

Friday, 28 November 2014

image for Feel Free to Do Something Disgusting While I'm Eating Food, or plates or something

I was eating in a Chinese restaurant. All but two tables were empty, but I had the good luck to be next to a large older man who was talking to an old woman who was on her way out. She asked how he was doing these days, a usual, casual sort of question which he took as his cue to deliver a soliloquy about all his health problems, as older people often do. As it turns out he had one major health problem, which was constipation. The large man suffered from this problem, constantly, to hear him talk, and he wasn't afraid to talk about it.

"You need to try Castor Oil," she said. "That's the best thing for it. Clears me up every time. I can take a little spoonful of that and I just head straight to the bathroom and it pours right out of me."

He shook his head sadly. "Won't work for me. I've tried it. I just sit on the toilet for hours, don't nothin' come out. I strain and I strain and nothin' helps." I wondered why he didn't stop eating for a while if it was bothering him so much. With his girth he looked like he could survive several long winters.

"Water," I said, breaking into the conversation. "It's called water. You're supposed to drink it. Also you might lay off the doughnuts and fried candy." That's when the old lady looked at me in horror. She hadn't noticed I was there. That's one of the finest things about many Americans today. They don't pay attention to other people. It's like people are just ghosts to them. They blather on without regard to what other people might think, or even if they might think. Also I think she detected a note of aggravation in my voice.

"We shouldn't talk so loud about that," she said to her large friend. "That man might want to eat." Might want to eat? That might explain what I was doing in a restaurant, mightn't it? The man just grunted, he didn't care one way or the other. The lady left, the conversation ceased, and I was able to enjoy my egg drop soup in peace.

It's not only recently that I've had this problem. Years ago I was eating with a friend who had a habit of eavesdropping, as many of my friends seem to have. I wouldn't have noticed what the two women at the other table were discussing if my friend hadn't been so hellbent on studying their conversation. It turns out they were discussing phlegm. You don't see that word in print too much, it's pronounced flem if that helps. They had a little girl with them and they were deabating whether to let her have ice cream. The girl's mother kept warning the girl about the evils of ice cream. The little girl obviously didn't give a shit, but the mother kept going on about the science of phlegm and how ice cream causes phlegm in the throat. The other lady started talking about her problems with phlegm and the type of phlegm she got.

I used to live with a woman whose stepsister was going to going to medical school. The family get togethers were memorable. I got to hear all about bowel obstructions and bowel diseases. They're quite fascinating, it seems. But I just as soon hear about them after dessert is over, especially if dessert is something chocolatey. Those days are gone, but I still treasure the conversations.

Actually I think I prefer the gross conversations to the noises people make. Farting in a restaurant? If you're already farting and belching you don't need to eat, right? You've already eaten, so go home and let other people eat, in peace. And there's all the old men who need to clear their throats. Apparently being an old man is another thing that causes you to get phlegm.

I'm afraid all these disgusting conversations and noises are beginning to bother me. It must be a sign I'm getting old. My only recourse, sad to say, is a drastic one. I'm going to avoid restaurants for a while. I guess I'll stay home and eat something besides deep-fried Chinese food. Maybe I'll try some nice vegetables and see what they're like. There's a new thing called asparagus, maybe I'll give that one a try. And since I'll be stuck at home, I might as well buy some fruits to snack on, some nice apples and oranges. It's a shame when a man is driven to these desperate measures.

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

If you fancy trying your hand at comedy spoof news writing, click here to join!
More by this writer
View Story
View Story
View Story
View Story
View Story
View Story



Go to top
77 readers are online right now!
Globey, The Spoof's mascot

We use cookies to give you the best experience, this includes cookies from third party websites and advertisers.

Continue ? Find out more