WHAT DOES IT TASTE LIKE IN THERE?

I'm a dry-heaver. What can I say? Ever since birth, if I experience something ocularly, olfactory, aurally, or orally disgusting, I will heave and retch and make the "Ooooo-wat!" sound. And, most often, I will do this in public.

Last week while waiting for the subway at Union Square I found an empty bench. I made a bad choice and decided to sit in the middle of the empty bench, and immediately I was swarmed by two females, about my age, who book-ended me into a bout of almost-claustrophobia. The woman to my left was totally normal, but the woman to my right, though having the appearance of normalcy, was clearly just not...correct...in...the...mind. I'll herewith call her Weirdy. First, Weirdy spilled her ice tea on me as she opened the bottle. I didn't make a big deal about it, and she apologized over the din of her personal CD player (a cheap brand, my first clue that Weirdy was weird. Perhaps my judgment of her is your first clue that I am a snob).

As I sat, my eyes glazed over with the internalization that comes with habitual waiting, I kept having to zone back in because Weirdy wouldn't stop sniffling. "Great," I thought, "I'm sitting next to someone with a cold. Gross!" I then heard a strange sucking sound emanating from Weirdy. I glanced over and saw her INSERTING HER FINGER ENTIRELY UP HER NOSTRIL, REMOVING SAID FINGER, AND USING HER MOUTH TO SLURP UP HER SNOT/MUCOUS/BOOGERS! She did this WITHOUT ANY SHAME OR SELF-CONCIOUSNESS! AND SHE DID IT REPEATEDLY! Weirdy would dig, and dig HARD, pop her finger out, take a passing look at her booger-bounty, and then suck it off like so many dipsticks covered in sugar. I wanted so badly to scream "Don't do that! Stop doing that! That is WRONG!" but instead I just stood up, made my "it smells like shit in here" face, and walked away. And then I thought about it. And then I started dry-heaving on the subway platform. Weirdy had turned ME into the Weirdy, because there I was retching, my eyes watering, only nobody knew why. Except for me. And, I think, Weirdy. So then, realizing the ridiculousness of the situation, I started laughing. At myself. Alone. I had become weirder than the weird girl, laughing to myself after retching to myself. The transference was complete, and Weirdy was the victor.