|The fresh maker?|
Me: Thanks. Are you trying to say something about my breath?
Dad: No, I didn't realize it was gum when I got it. My teeth are too bad for gum.
I guess this is what they put candy and gum in now? A "protective" plastic case so that the gum makes a lot of noise as you skate down the street? Awesome...like I'm packing a baby rattle or a can with pennies in it to scare dogs and hobos.
I don't remember the last time I had a pack of gum on me, much less chewed it. I've been smoking for 20 years, and I haven't really used anything to curb the oral fixation thing since I started the process of quitting. (I almost wrote "oral fetish thing", but that's a completely different issue altogether.) So, I attempted to enjoy the minty-ness as I chewed a piece until I became annoyed by it (about 3 minutes), threw it away...and got another piece 10 minutes later.
I went to the public library for a couple of hours, and then skated to the bus stop at 5th and Lamar to go home. As I stood there waiting for the bus, I reached for that stupid noisy pack of gum. At that moment, this older lady in a gaudy dress and Jackie O sunglasses walked up to the bus stop carrying a shopping bag and smoking a cigarette. She was wearing one of those hats that says, "Hey, I'm old and the sun could kill me. Pretend I'm fashionable."
The bus came into sight a few blocks away, so she hurriedly inhaled the rest of her Pall Mall and started a violent coughing fit. She flung the but away and covered her mouth as she hacked uncontrollably into her hand. I then heard her make the sound of hocking a loogie...but with no spit. Lovely.
She finished, attempted to compose herself and straightened her sunglasses. It was at this moment that I stretched out my hand and lightly shook the Mentos in her direction.
Me (with slight smirk): (rattle rattle) "Gum?"