When you see a nose picker in public does it annoy you? Does the sight disgust you? Does it get up your nose as much as their finger gets up theirs? Well they disgust me. Yet maybe I should thank one. For it was an Asian nose picker who helped to break my computer and which then led me to start this blog.
If I cast my mind back a few years, to March 2012. I was in Melbourne Tullamarine Airport waiting to check in for my flight home. The hotel check out time had passed so I arrived early, too early in fact since check-in was not open yet. It turns out I had close to an hour to wait.
Unperturbed I noticed one of the few seats in the check-in area and made myself comfortable. Using my mobile broadband dongle I was able to do a bit of internet surfing on my netbook whilst waiting for the check-in desk to be manned.
Enter the nose picker
I was happily catching up on e-mail, maybe for a good 10-15 minutes in fact. The 2 seats to the right of me had been vacant for a while. Then suddenly I could see 2 gentlemen approach then they sat beside me.
The guy right beside me appeared to be an Indian. I say this (although I could be wrong) based on a few things.
Firstly he looked Indian, bit of a give away if you ask me. He could have been Sri Lankan but I’m going with the odds here. I’ve worked with Indians and travelled to India more times than I can remember so I’m guessing from this experience that he was Indian.
Secondly it was the way he dressed. The style of his trousers and shirt just looked so familiar to what I see in terms of how Indian men dress. It’s one of those things you can’t quite put your finger on, never quite put into words but you can see the connection.
Thirdly he was a dreaded nose picker. Why does this make me think he is Indian? Well from my experience Indians in general, (I won’t stereotype because they are not all the same) have a tendency to be more open about picking their nose in public. They don’t feel uncomfortable doing this. Not all of them do it but it is not uncommon to see. I see a higher ratio of Indian nose pickers than I see of Western nose pickers.
I did recently read a travel blogger saying that Vietnamese people are quite open about picking their nose in public. Yuk.
Don’t get me wrong, things can get quite messy up there. Sometimes it needs a good clean out. But for goodness sake be discrete about it. Use a handkerchief or go somewhere private. Don’t do it in full view of everyone around you.
So what did this guy do? Yes the nose picker began his little bit of investigative surgery up his left nostril.
Now remember he is sat immediately on my right hand side. Our arms are almost touching.
This nose picker was not just any old nose picker this was an Olympic athlete for nose picking, if they had such a contest.
This guy was at it for ages. His elbow was waving around violently as he was digging away up that nostril. It was like he was digging for gold or performing some perverse root canal surgery.
I was getting really miffed off at this. Not only did I find it thoroughly rude and disgusting but I couldn’t believe the duration. It seemed to take ages!
I began swinging my body around to the left. I wanted him out of my line of vision. I couldn’t endure seeing his arm waving around as he burrowed upwards into the treasure chest of bogeys he was exploring.
In panic I scanned the room for any available seats. The next set of seats to my left were already taken and I couldn’t really see any others. I was stuck here.
I had my large suitcase. I had my carry on case plus my netbook computer was on my lap, switched on.
I thought that surely he would give up soon?
I’m not exaggerating when I say that this nose picker was digging away for around 10 minutes. Yes 10 minutes searching for that one elusive mucus covered bogey or any collection that came with it.
No matter how much I huffed, puffed and sighed he wouldn’t get the hint.
My swivel to the left was very blatant now. I was in a very awkward angle due to the metal arm rests fixed to the front of the seat.
My disgust could not be any more obvious now as my back was turned to him as much as physically possible.
Did this nose picker get the hint that he disgusted me with his every being?
Oh no. He just kept going.
I think if I offered him a shovel he would have accepted.
Then that was it.
My patience snapped.
I couldn’t take it any more.
Silent rage overcame me and I had to get away from this vile, rude, disgusting, ill considerate excuse of a man. This being from the human race who is a nose picker.
With calculated consideration of the risks my rage influenced my decision. I had to leave and leave now.
No time to switch off my computer or pack it away. I had to escape for my sanity.
So off I went seeking solace in being able to stand (no free seats were available) anywhere. Anywhere that I could find which was out of sight of bogey heaven.
Grabbing the handle of my large suitcase in one hand and the carry on bag in the other I prepared to leave. I put my netbook case under my shoulder and decided to grip the netbook with the same hand that held the carry on bag.
I wasn’t going far I was sure that I could make it.
Alas, in the fit of rage and a lack of patience to tolerate not a moment more of this visual torture my decision making and risk assessment was poor.
Within maybe 5-10 steps of my escape the nightmare scenario happened.
Yes. My netbook slipped from my grasp and hit the cold, hard ground.
Now not only was I angry with the nose picker I was angry with myself.
I just knew this would happen. I knew it was too much to carry. I should have shut down the computer and packed it away first. Yet I had no patience left I couldn’t wait to get away from Mr Rude.
I collected my netbook from the floor. It was still in one piece and no rattling noise was coming from it. The mobile broadband dongle was a little bit bent (it was still plugged in) but seemed okay?
I found a place to lean against a wall, out of sight of the nose picker. I then desperately tried to discover if my computer would work?
But no. My netbook was no more.
How this nose picker helped me to start this blog
So how did this nose picker help me start this blog I hear you ask (Ed. Well I can’t hear you, you’re on the web but I’m kind of guessing that is what you’re thinking.)
Well the story is this.
Flights and Frustration (or was it originally Frustrations, I can’t remember) began as a book idea. It was going to be a universal best seller on Amazon (yeah I wish) which would amaze and excite you.
Okay maybe not. However it would be very therapeutic for me.
I would be able to vent my frustrations about the annoying habits of travel and fellow travellers, such as a nose picker or two.
I’d begun drafting a template of this amazing book on my netbook. I’d prepared a layout of the book structure, chapters, topics, stories, rants, ramblings and ruminations.
This book was taking shape. It had purpose, it had meaning. It had no back-up.
Yes that is right. I hadn’t backed up the template for my book.
When my netbook went down so did the hopes and dreams of Flights And Frustration the book; volume I.
Now I was really devastated.
I’d lost my netbook computer, it would cost me hundreds of pounds (sterling) to replace it.
I’d lost the use of my mobile broadband dongle (they weren’t cheap when I bought it).
I’d also lost my files including the draft to my gateway to being a world famous author (ahem, okay maybe a failing author but an author none the less).
My dreams were shattered and now my travel stories had no purpose.
Well no, that actually isn’t the case.
For a number of years I’d considered how great it would be to have my own website and could relay my travel experiences and moans (oh I love a good moan, just ask my wife she’ll confirm that).
In fact I’d played around with a website before but very unsuccessfully. It wasn’t travel based and was really a front to get leads into a network marketing venture. Both the website and the network marketing venture failed.
The website failed because I knew very little about what I was doing. I had no drive, no focus, no purpose.
The network marketing venture failed because the founder and main financier stabbed his wife to death. But that’s a different story (a true one though).
So a few months passed and I considered beginning a redraft of the outline of my book. I’d now acquire a new netbook and had the tools at my disposal.
But would a book work? It is limited in content, limited by the size of the book. Once it is written it is difficult to update or change. It doesn’t account for my new experiences.
So a website it is. Hence Flights and Frustration is born!
I’ve also now written a book too. So I’m a blogger and an author!
They say every cloud has a silver lining. I suppose the silver lining is this website which I am happy to share with you.
I guess the cloud is the nose picker.
Well maybe every cloud does have a silver lining but some have bogeys too.
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