This is MY dance space.....
People. Why won’t they just bugger off?
The woman behind me in the queue at Weight Watchers last night had too much perfume on. It was Loulou or something equally sickly and obnoxious, and by the time I got to thehumiliation weighing part, I felt a bit sick.
The toxicity of the fumes probably wouldn’t have been so bad if the woman concerned had had any idea at all about personal space, or boundaries, or anything. She was very fat indeed, and every time the queue shuffled along she responded to my taking a step forward by taking one of her own that was just a little bit too long, and her protruding stomach caressed my lower back. It’s enough to make a person itch. Seriously, strange fat lady with too much perfume on, don’t touch me with your stomach.
When you think about it, people are vile. I sat next to GBF on the special bus into town on Wednesday and, although I love him very much, the thought of him eating his egg sandwich while sitting beside me was more than I could bear. I mean, what if I smelled his breath*, or something? Horrible. And I went to see the dentist yesterday and all I could think was, why? Why would anyone want to be a dentist and poke around in other people’s manky mouths all day long? See also chiropodists, shop assistants and beauty therapists* (the proper sort, not the dirty ladies who offer “remedial therapies” with their tops off. That’s a whole other blog post). Why would anyone do those jobs? I just can’t fathom it.
I can’t be doing with people, me.
* Could everyone (BBC news website, this means you) please learn the simple rule that the stuff you exhale is breath, and what you do when you exhale is breathe. As far as I’m aware, the two are not interchangeable. Thank you.
** I read something once where a lady recounted the story of when she saw the notes the beautician who waxed her upper lip had for her that read “warning – breath smells of fish”. How mortified can a person be??
The woman behind me in the queue at Weight Watchers last night had too much perfume on. It was Loulou or something equally sickly and obnoxious, and by the time I got to the
The toxicity of the fumes probably wouldn’t have been so bad if the woman concerned had had any idea at all about personal space, or boundaries, or anything. She was very fat indeed, and every time the queue shuffled along she responded to my taking a step forward by taking one of her own that was just a little bit too long, and her protruding stomach caressed my lower back. It’s enough to make a person itch. Seriously, strange fat lady with too much perfume on, don’t touch me with your stomach.
When you think about it, people are vile. I sat next to GBF on the special bus into town on Wednesday and, although I love him very much, the thought of him eating his egg sandwich while sitting beside me was more than I could bear. I mean, what if I smelled his breath*, or something? Horrible. And I went to see the dentist yesterday and all I could think was, why? Why would anyone want to be a dentist and poke around in other people’s manky mouths all day long? See also chiropodists, shop assistants and beauty therapists* (the proper sort, not the dirty ladies who offer “remedial therapies” with their tops off. That’s a whole other blog post). Why would anyone do those jobs? I just can’t fathom it.
I can’t be doing with people, me.
* Could everyone (BBC news website, this means you) please learn the simple rule that the stuff you exhale is breath, and what you do when you exhale is breathe. As far as I’m aware, the two are not interchangeable. Thank you.
** I read something once where a lady recounted the story of when she saw the notes the beautician who waxed her upper lip had for her that read “warning – breath smells of fish”. How mortified can a person be??
posted by surly girl at 9:04 am
14 Comments:
I've always been puzzled by Dentists too. Or more precisely, I've always been puzzled by why any school leaver would choose to study dentistry at university. What sort of person would make that choice at that age?
Oh, and another thing. I've never met a dentist socially. Y'know in a pub, in a club, at a party, through a friend. Don't they ever go out?
Dentists earn shed loads.
Chiropodists are the ones that puzzle me.
I completely agree with this post SG (by the way should have said last time, congrats on resigning). I wonder however whether for some people, when they gain a lot of weight fast, their perception of their personal space does not expand at the same rate so she thought she was keeping her distance but wasn't factoring in the huge gut issue.
Dentists are all suicidal. Mine is a Ukranian bint with a huge hooter. She reeks of onions and is very, very scary.
likewise, i cannot stand people who invade my olfactory spaces - it's supremely antisocial
i spent three hours in a very small car with a schoolfriend (i use the term 'friend' loosely here - basically, it was a free lift to a party) who had sprayed herself extremely liberally with loulou
i came very close to throwing up on several occasions and worked hard to find reasons why i needed the passenger window fully open in deepest winter
A pedant might point out that you could have been more mortified if the beautician had written “warning – breathe smells of fish”.
Just a point
my personal favourites are people who will poke you with a shopping basket while standing in a queue. what's their plan? in order to get everybody pay faster should I poke the person in front of me so that we'll become one long cheerful poking queue?
Then you'll not want to go here at all, will you.
I am in complete agreement. I cannot imagine wanting to muck around with other
peoples....ickiness. no. nonononono.
no.
oooooooooo I did it i did it!
the blue underliney thing, that is.
Well, I'm surprised that no one has mentioned the "lady doctor" in their list of inexplicable professions. Although, I'd rather go to the gyno than to the dentist. Uck!
I could never do Weight Watchers. Public humiliation has never been my scene.
I went to my dentist yesterday. HE obviously disliked poking around in my teeth so much he doesn't want to see me for 10 months.
I've never met a dentist socially either. But someone I used to be friends with was training to be a dental nurse.
I went to the health centre once with an itchy arse, happily long since cleared up. It turned out to be this really hot lady doctor - never mind itchy arse, I died on my arse.
God was I embarrassed.
I know some gynaecologists semi-socially - they do it because either a) it's the God-complex thing (making babies); b) there's always going to be a job for you (girly bits are always going to go wrong because of the design flaws); or c) there's some serious cutting-edge reseach going on with the potential to earn lots of cash.
Being someone who looks at people's icky bits for a living I can honestly say I did not imagine that I'd be looking at bumholes all day when I was 18 and applying to uni. I thought it would be like MASH ..you know drinking martinis in large parkas in a tent but it isn't...sighes and retreats into large parka
Now just imagine being that much more embarrassed if the notes on the card for the waxer was related to a Brazilian, "Warning: Cooch smells like trout."
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