Okay, I have a pretty high tolerance for a lot of things, given that I grew up on a farm. I probably could have been a doctor or surgeon because I have a pretty strong stomach when it comes to gore. I mean, I grew up butchering animals and dealing with the aftermath of them being attacked by other animals. It provides a strong foundation where a lot of the things in San Francisco that violently revolt others can’t touch you.
This all changed the other day as I went to meet a potential client around Mission and New Montgomery. It’s generally a pretty good area but there are a few vagrants, drunks, addicts, bums, and what have you who stroll through there on occassion. As I was trying to use the dial pad to get in to the building, I wasn’t paying much attention to those walking by. There is however one woman I should have paid a lot more attention to as she stopped walking about two feet behind me and decided to unleash to flailing torrent of vomit right in the middle of the street.
Fortunately she was far enough away from me that just a little splattered on my shoes (which I’m pretty certain I have to burn now) and the only real problem I had to deal with was the shock of someone doing this and the ensuing smell that arose from the act. Why she couldn’t just hobble two feet over to the curb and do it there is beyond me. After the fact, I did feel sorry for her as I realize she has to be pretty screwed up to be reduced to acts that even dogs think about before committing. Of course, I don’t think any of my sympathy was coming through in the expression on my face as she started to walk towards me in what looked like a move to bum change. I think that the look in my eyes was something akin to wanting to roll her down a hill in a burning truck tire, so she thought otherwise and walked on.
Geez, it’s still bugging me. Hopefully it will fade and I’ll be able to eat scrambled eggs again.