DER POPEL

My gaze is fixed on the traffic light, ready at any moment to sprint and storm across the other side, shouting “SPARTA!” Sometimes, in situations like this, I’m overcome with trembling feet, on the verge of kicking the nearest pigeon, simply because I’m being held back by that stupid red light. Pure oppression!

Suddenly, I notice a guy standing to my left, who seems to be talking to me for no apparent reason. Those €70 for new headphones were worth it, though, because I can’t understand a word. So, I guess I really have to talk to this clown now—what does he want from me? Maybe where I got my awesome headphones. I turn slightly towards him and take in his appearance. He’s actually quite well-groomed. He starts chattering away again immediately, before I even have a chance to take out my headphones. Just as I’m about to do so, because I don’t want to ask him to repeat himself, I notice something about him.

A gigantic booger screams at me from his right nostril. A large, slimy, disgusting, truly revolting lump of filth. Hasn’t he noticed it yet? How is that possible? It’s hard to breathe with something like that! His entire polished appearance shatters in seconds. A pile of boogers. A booger heap. That’s exactly what it seems to be – nothing more than a horrible, greasy booger. I stare at the monstrosity while he’s already repeating his sentence. It’s impossible for me to listen to him. The booger has completely captivated me, and the first beads of sweat slowly trickle down my temple, which I nervously try to wipe away with my trembling hands.

I notice him looking at me with increasing irritation, but I can’t help but glance at his botched nasal creation. A feeling of helplessness grips me, like exam anxiety five minutes before a test. I can’t possibly ask him to repeat his sentence a third time. That’s far too uncomfortable. So uncomfortable, in fact, that the helplessness slowly transforms into panic, causing me to frantically look left and right, trying to find the best escape route.

Then, as if by divine intervention, the pedestrian light turns green, and I start walking at an extremely brisk pace toward the street. Actually, I’m more leaping across the street, sprinting, zigzagging like a hare being chased by a hungry fox. I run away, dodging and weaving. No turning back, no looking him in the eye again, and absolutely no falling under the spell of his enormous booger again. Reaching the other side, I’m completely out of breath, but I made it. Proud, my knees still shaky, I look ahead.

Not today, booger! You won’t get me today!

Image: Nilo Velez, https://wordpress.org/photos/photo/125666046d/