The cigarette smoking John is primarily what inspired me to review the laundry list of piss poor manners I've seen displayed over my dating history. But no story sticks out more than the blatant disrespect of John and his inability to use a tissue...
He has been mentioned previously, so don't think that these are all different men that I've dated. I might enjoy the more nocturnal activities, but I'm not a total whore.
John and I had been broken up for awhile. As part of my efforts to clean the slate and start fresh, I decided to purchase a new bed, from start to finish. Bed, box spring, frame, headboard...the whole nine yards. And as a declaration of my independence and ability to invest in my new bed, I paid for delivery and mattress removal (much to my father's delight)
On the day that the mattress set was to be delivered, I stripped down my old mattress in preparation of the men to haul it away. I tossed the sheets in the laundr and the mattress protector in the trash (no, it's not a rubber sheet - stop that!) and discovered, to my horror, a quarter sized collection of boogers, stuck securely in a nearly hidden location on my mattress. It would have been under the protector thingy.
It was John's side of the bed from when he'd stay the night.
I can only summise that each night while I was fast asleep, dreaming of better things, John would pick his nose and, for lack of a tissue, he'd simply wipe the offending booger on my bed.
Because the bathroom was so far away.
Because I didn't keep tissue or toilet paper on my nightstand.
Because he felt that he was within his rights to wipe his excrement on my bed. When is it within anyone's rights to do such an offending thing? And why would you think that something like that would possibly be okay? I guess I was raised differently because an action like that is never in the realm of possibility.
I don't know if it's a lack of a proper upbringing with manners or that he simply didn't care about my property (and me). But when I confronted John (because at this point I was so pissed off that I didn't really give two shits about what he had to say about it) he denied it all. I reminded him of the numerous times I've busted him picking his nose in front of me as well as the handkerchief he carries with him (except when he's in bed and you know, the hankie in his pocket in his pants on the floor is too far away to simply reach down and pick up to use....much more convenient and sensible to simply wipe your nose guts on my bed...duh). Not surprisingly, he wasn't able to admit fault nor was he able to apologize.
And the manners (or lackthereof) continue...boys, boys, boys....
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