What can YOU say in six sentences?
He was behind me at the red light, a handsome forty-something guy in a big white pickup truck. I watched him in my rearview mirror as he raked through his salt and pepper hair, ran an index finger across his top lip and squinted as if contemplating something serious, then he tugged at his right ear lobe several times which made me decide stress was causing these nervous picking tics.
Mr. Stressed then stuck a finger in his ear, pinched out some material which he quickly put in his mouth. Hoping I imagined this, I continued watching as he did the same with his left ear, cleaning any bonus wax under his nails with his bottom teeth.
At first I laughed, in a shocked way, then I was mildly horrified, like the time Wendy Bentley told me snot tasted good then violently snorted out a quarter cup of shiny green glue and lapped it right up; I turned away and retched.
We have names for eating dirt and dryer sheets, for gorging and puking, for not eating, but what about the name for eating our own yuck?