Mucus Pocus

I wake up the other morning.
Just getting over a fever.

Perhaps I'm the only one...But when you've got that terrible sinus pressure/infection, head congestion, etc.
What's the first thing you do in the morning?
For me, it's hocking that epic loogie that's been building all night.
And it's always that Chernobyl nuclear green, guacamole textured beast that you can't expel around women with fear of being lectured about etiquette.
...Resembling the Ecto slime that came with the 80's Ghostbusters action figures that I would STILL play with if I could find them.
Perhaps that's only what I have to do.
Don't judge me.

I'm on the way to work at 6 AM.
I opt for some Starbucks. 12 hour work days and 45 minute drives obviously require some overpriced caffiene.
So, I pull into the drive-through and order.
(Yes, these drawings are intentionally awful for comedic effect.)

"Yes, I'd like a vente peppermint mocha please."
"That will be nine hundred and forty-three dollars and sixteen cents. Please pull through."
"...Thanks."

So, I put my car in drive and coast through.
Without thinking twice, I snort the entire nights sleep of accumulated mucus, and spit out the window. However, the epic loogie of rejection does not clear the vehicle. Or my mouth.

Yes.
It lands nicely on the window track and drips down the outside of my door.
And it sure wasn't tough to miss, being that it was a glow-in-the-dark, radioactive loogie of the utmost embarrassing proportions.

All of this occurs while I'm about to pay, then be handed my coffee.
So, I panic. You would too, don't be a lying liar.
I reach over into the passenger seat and grab a receipt from the ATM machine.

However, the consistancy of the loogie simply will not be denied.
Then, time runs out.
The girl at the window goes to hand my my coffee.

...And a prominent line of mucus connects my face to the recepit glued to my car, surrounded by snot.

The girl at the window tilts her head in confusion.
Like a dog confused why it's being scolded after peeing on the carpet.
The akward moment when our eyes met caused more emotional damage than seeing my grandmother stepping out of the shower, with her silver Chia Pet-esq a bush connecting into a happy trail leading up her trachea.


The forecast called for rejection, that morning.
With a 100% chance of involentary abstinence for the rest of my life.

She hesitated, shifted her eyes and then said, "thank you".
Had I been on the ball, I would have responded "'Snot a problem."