Neighbours
I am staying in a hotel Alan Partridge style at the moment. Every morning I wake up just after the guy in the single room next to me wakes up. He is a noisy bugger, snoring when he sleeps and coughing and hacking when he wakes up. I don’t know what he looks like but I do know what he sounds like.
Today at breakfast some guy in his 50s offered for me to sit at his table, I was grateful as it was packed in the breakko lounge. I was happily eating my breakfast of eggs, bacon and hash browns when the guy, who I had now observed to be unshaven and kind of looking like a tramp, began to blow his nose. It started off like a normal nose blow and then got more elaborate and then disgusting. So much so I was put off of my scrambled eggs. He was holding one nostril closed and snorting out of the other one into a napkin, really going at it. Then just as I thought he had finished he entered into the finale; two fingers both lightly wrapped in napkin stuffed up each nostril while he hooted.
I quickly ate what I could, listened to him boom to some other diners about dingos eating babies and then I left.
I am fairly sure I have now met my hotel neighbour.
October 26th, 2007
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That certainly explains why he normally dines alone but at least he uses a napkin.
If he was on my train he’d just sit there sniffing for an hour accompanied by a tststststststs backing track coming from his earphones.
Hell is other people.