I sat next to a Gold Digger

Yesterday morning, the guy sitting next to me on the bus was picking his nose.

Now, the city metro is never a normal place. You can, and must, expect the weirdest behavior ever...people screaming, ranting, talking to themselves, picking fights, half-clothed, drunk or smelly. My favorite is the people with multiple bags of garbage. The bus has to stop, take five minutes to drop the handicap platform and raise it back up, just so this person can pile their bags or wheel their cart of garbage onto the bus, and then ride the bus for four blocks in the ride free zone, only to start the whole platform rigmarole again.

But, this guy appeared to be "normal" by all of society's standards. I am very picky about who I choose to sit next to every morning. I walk down the isle, shifting my eyes back and forth, scanning each person for the less-creepy looking seat partner. This particular guy appeared to be in his 20s, was neatly dressed and was reading The New York Times.

But the whole time, out of the corner of my eye, I could see him digging, then he'd drop his hand, and out of my peripheral vision, I'd watch him roll his fingers together and then kinda flick. Five minutes later he was back to digging.

Really? I mean, really. Do you really think that nobody - people in the back of the bus and people packed in the front - can see you picking your nose? Or do you just not care?

That is a total disregard of caring about what people think of you, which sometimes I wished I had 10% of.

Currently Feeling: Grateful for certain people.
Currently Anticipating: American's Next Top Model and Project Runway.
Currently Loving: Having someone at home to talk to and watch TV with.