A/N: It's one thing to have ideas running around in my mind about a certain story, pulling at my focus and refusing to give mercy, but it's another thing to have ideas running around for multiple stories. That's what I get for starting things without set-in-stone plots and then having those plots come around all at the same time. Ah well. In any case, I wrote this tonight in hopes of getting my fingers and motivation worked up to finish the many, many chapters that I've already started. Ugh, darn my laziness! This was fun to write; I was giggling in between quotation marks and insults. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did writing it!
Honest to Baby Jesus, I wasn't staring at him. Personally, I hate it when people look over at me at stoplights, so you know, "do unto others as you would have them do unto you" applies to driving respect. Or, don't do, in my case. Whatever. The point is: I was simply observing a repulsive act happening five feet away from me.
I just happened to look over to my right when I saw an arm go up in what looked like a presumable wave. But when I looked over, I wasn't greeted with the sight of a friend who happened to be going the same way, or someone waving to point out something wrong with my car. Uhn uh.
What I saw was an otherwise handsome guy who looked to be around my age with his finger lodged in his nose. You'd think his nose was a well with how far his index finger was shoved up there.
I was beyond disgusted. I was shamed with the lack of automobile etiquette my generation happens to possess. And the audacity to do that when your windows aren't even tinted! He could have had the decency to use a tissue. Or his shirt. Or his seatbelt for that matter. Now I'm sure to never touch a male's hand again without knowing that they have thoroughly cleansed it.
Gritting my teeth, I looked ahead in hopes of clearance for me to inch forward, or for the light to turn green already, but no such luck. I was so far back I could barely even see the light.
With restrained control, I looked back to see if that guy was done relieving himself in the nasal capacity in public. He wasn't, and I couldn't hide the disgusted look on my face.
What aggravated situations to a level of embarrassment for both parts (his more so), he looked over and caught me staring at him. Instead of abruptly turning away in humiliation, he raised his other hand and waved at me with a smile, thinking that this whole nose picking extravaganza was just so nondescript and not a total turn-off and sanitary violation.
Ahem. Not that I was considering possible turn-ons about him.
Resisting the temptation to roll down the window and yell at him, I sharply turned back around and stared at the rear of the truck in front of me, whose bumper adorned a bumper sticker that read, "Veni, Vidi, VD. I came, I saw, I cankered." Talk about turn-offs.
I kept a peripheral eye on him, though. Because seriously, with your finger up your nose that far, you have to have whatever's wedged in there out by now.
The diseased (or so the bumper sticker implied) person in front of me moved forward and I exhaled, glad to have something better to look at. With a grin I moved forward until I was suddenly stopped again. Oh no, the light can't be stopped again, don't tell me it's stopped again!
With a silent prayer, I ventured a glance to my right again and unbidden disappointment coursed through me. This was worse than having someone try and get my number through the window! At least I could ignore them!
Finally, after what seemed like forever (which was more or less three minutes), his finger was removed from his nose and he was now looking at it, which was grosser than seeing it in his nose.
His window was now rolled down and a flicking motion of his finger was occurring before I realize what was happening.
We both watched as something splattered against my window and when our eyes met, my control snapped.
"Oh my God!" I rolled down the vandalized window and glared at him, pointing a finger. "How the hell do you get off flicking snot onto other people's cars?" I yelled, wildly gesturing.
His green eyes widened and he shriveled away. "I'm sorry! It was an accident! I thought I was flicking it the other way!"
Putting the car in park in case I let off the brakes in my agitation, I now had two hands to physically convey my emotions. They swung madly as I screeched. "No, you know, it's not even about you flicking your disgusting mucus around; I watched you pick your nose!"
He grinned stupidly. "I noticed. So you like staring at other people in cars, huh?"
"No!" I shrieked. "It's the fact that you would be so discreet about it! The least you could've done was use a tissue! I can't believe the poor hygiene of males; it's ridiculous."
"If it helps, my nose was really itchy, and if I hadn't "scratched" it, then I would've been in discomfort the whole car ride, resulting in my loss of focus, thus potentially getting myself into an accident," he justified in an unsuccessful attempt.
I gave him a crazy look. "What the hell kind of explanation is that?! That doesn't make up for the fact that you have no shame in shoving your freaking finger up your nose where everybody can see!"
"Just you." At my glare, he chuckled and gave me a skeptical look. "Surely you've done it before. Everyone picks their nose at some point in their driving careers."
"Not everyone is as disgusting as you are," I hotly retorted.
"It's human nature!" he defended.
With an eye roll, I glanced forward and scowled at the unbelievable slowness of traffic this morning. Turning back to Booger Boy, I replied, "And it's human nature to do so in a more hygienic manner. Or not in public!"
Instead of answering to my comment, he looked over at the interior of my Civic and after briefly studying it, tsked. I stared at him. "Figures you're so against instinctual functions; you're not even human," he declared with somewhat of a triumphant glint in his eye.
"Excuse me?"
"I see no trash on the console, no bobble head on the dashboard, not even an air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror; you're no normal person who gives in to the temptation of nose picking. You're a high maintenance female who"—he leaned back over and smirked—"yep, keeps a small bottle of hand sanitizer in her car."
Instead of bristling at his attempt at analyzing my lifestyle from the inside of my car, I smirked and said, "This coming from a guy who probably doesn't own a bottle of hand sanitizer, much less gives consideration to the other drivers on the road when he jars their attention by being so crudely gross."
His smile widened and he lifted his hand. "I can smear your back windows too, if you want."
I yelped and launched the hand sanitizer at his window. "Clean your hands, you pig! And wipe off the disgusting mess you left on my window!"
"I can't reach it."
A honk suddenly blew from behind us and I looked in the rearview mirror, seeing the person behind me angrily pointing. My eyes flittered to the front and I saw that there was a gap in front of us that, during our current spat, stretched. Not bothering to say another word to the guy, I changed gears, sped up, but luck wouldn't have it, and the light turned red by the time I got there, meaning that I was still stuck with him next to me for the next few minutes.
When he pulled back next to me, I scowled darkly at him.
"You know, disgusting, careless guys like you aren't attractive."
"And high-strung, pissy girls like you aren't either."
"You picked your nose for ten hours!" I argued.
"And you're yelling at me because I did!" he yelled back.
Somehow finding my resolve, and patience, I shook my head. "I can't believe I'm arguing with a stranger over nose picking."
"I can't believe a girl as pretty as you are is screaming at me through our car windows."
I couldn't stop the blush from peppering my cheeks; really, it was the way he said it that caused my blood to rush.
I sighed and realized that the crest of our quarrel (which was starting to become seemingly paltry and immature) had tided over. "I'm sorry for yelling at you," I begrudgingly offered.
"It's okay. I apologize for grossing you out."
Casting him a glance, I added, "You're still disgusting."
He smiled and I noticed his dimples for the first time. "You're still pissy."
The corners of my mouth quirked up and I returned my gaze to the light, shifting my anger to its delay.
Finally, after an eternity, the light turned green and I was free to go.
Or so I thought.
Right before I accelerated through the junction, leaving the argument I had with a good-looking—yes, I admit it—guy, and this forsaken stoplight, two cars collided into one another. Right in the center of intersection.
I blinked, not understanding why this had to happen sooner and not later. Was I supposed to believe that fate had it in for me or something? My purpose was to get from point A to point B and instead I witness a vile act, have a booger fly at my window, and have a restraint from getting to work, much less going anywhere else.
All I could do was turn my car off and lean forward until my forehead met the steering wheel, repeating that notion over and over.
I groaned, cursing my luck when I heard a light tapping at my window. I looked up and saw Booger Boy standing there with a slightly sympathetic smile on his face. The rest of his smile was purely lopsidedness that I had become to know was his.
With nothing else to lose, I sighed and unbuckled my seatbelt, slowly getting out of my car. Now that we stood face to face, I noticed how tall he was and how nicely he dressed, and how his loose hair was slightly damp.
I also noticed how much bigger his smile and dimples were up close, but that was not to be expressed.
The sterile and familiar smell of ethyl alcohol wafted through my nose and I looked down, seeing my bottle palmed in his hand. I felt better, knowing that his hands were now clean. His free hand moved and was held in front of me in his part of a handshake. At least I can credit him for his congeniality.
"Hi. I'm Matt."
"Sarah."
In the middle of chaos where people were running all around us screaming for ambulances and cars were honking mercilessly, I placed my hand in his sanitized one and returned his smile.