I Hate Me, part 293,341
How long is the half life on embarrassment? I went in to Starbucks and ordered a tall red eye (translation: a small coffee with a shot of espresso added). I go in there a lot so they know my name which is fine but lately all the baristas have name tags and not printed out name tags, they look like tiny chalk boards with their names scrawled on them. They are pretty hard to read and I am terrible at names. And it’s creepy to stare at a name tag on someones chest, a person whose name I probably should know by now. So I’m a little uncomfortable with that. Anyhow, I make non-specific small talk and move to the end of the line and wait. I got a couple of what I thought were strange looks from the baristas which I chalked up to me being paranoid or my hair which has taken on decidedly mad scientist look when not properly combed (which is often). I got my coffee and was headed back to work. There’s a guy who sits out in front of Starbucks and solicits money for various causes, he’s a nice enough guy and when I have a little extra cash I’ll give a donation and we’ll exchange pleasantries.
Guy- Hey..uh you got something…your..uh your nose, man..take care of it.
Me- (aaugh!) hehheh… thanks…yeah a bat in the batcave…uuhhhhh….
I pulled out a tissue and went over to a nearby abandoned storefront to see what kind of horror was sticking out of my nose…and Oh My God, it looked like a nose version of the chestburster from the movie Alien. I had this fucking monstrosity sticking out of my nose the entire time I was in Starbucks, I’m figuring at least a week before I can go back.