Funny Story: To Sniff Or Not To Sniff

Story by EJ Kensington

Note: The author's views are entirely his or her own and may not reflect the views of RetoxMagazine.com

Winter dilemma - to sniff or not to sniff

I find myself sitting on the train waiting to take off. Its 6pm and the train is packed full of office pods. I suddenly feel this flush of heat all through my body. Its mid-November and it is FREEZING outside, so like any other sane person, I am dressed like an onion for a Siberian winter. This doesn't seem to help me though when I am sitting on a packed heated train. I refuse to start taking my clothes off when I know that in ten minutes time I will have to perform a reverse striptease and have to pile all my onion layers back on. So I am sitting here with sweat running down my ass. I suddenly realise what's coming!

Looking for the white... tissue

My nose starts to run like it always does when there is a massive temperature change in my man-made environment. I finger my pockets trying not to look suspicious… I realise that my snotter box tissue that I always remember to put in my pocket is not there. My mind starts to race through all my snotty options. I know that I have a lovely packet of shea-butter tissues in my bag but they are all the way at the bottom covered by a mass of food shopping that I have managed to stuff into my Mary Poppins bag.

I sniff

I give a sniff. I know this will not solve my problem and like a village about to be flooded by a tsunami I know I have to act fast. As the options run through my mind, I know that I will either have to do a deep throaty sniff to end this nightmare or become one of those sickly snifflers that no one wants to sit next to.

A social cast out and a rebel

My sleeve is not an option. I want to scream down the train "I am not infected! You don't have to cast me out of society yet!" But I sit there quietly waiting for the last possible moment before I really need to wipe on my waterproof hand. So Sexy. Has it really come to this I wonder… I am a professional woman. I should be prepared for these situations. Sniff. The woman next to me turns to face the opposite direction. I realize I have let down a whole generation of runny noses. I finger my pocket again. Nothing. I finger the other pocket just to make sure. I feel something. It's a remnant of a tissue from what I can only imagine is last winter. I secretly try to arrange it into a presentable shape before I pull it out of my pocket and present it not only to my nose but the entire world.

Suddenly my train arrives at its destination and as everybody crowds around the exit doors, I quickly give a satisfying wipe all over my sleeve. I smile. I'm now a rebel!