999 Things that Bother Me: #990

Orally-emitted aural agony

It seems to me that a great deal of the general populace was not in fact raised in metropolitan or urban settings; rather, a barn was the preferred environment of upbringing.

One must not stray far before encountering one of these creatures, those beasts blissfully and perhaps deliberately ignorant of some painfully necessary social customs.

Yes, friends, I speak of noises pertaining to the mouth.

We’ll get one out of the way because this is simply impossible to ignore:  loud gum-chewing.

Don't pretend like you didn't at least imagine giving this kid a beat-down.

There are two stages of gum-chewing that make both my blood and chicken soup boil.

The first stage is the loud, chomping, tongue-lashing, laterally-moving jaw-dropping nuisance.  The experience always happens when you most expect it, i.e. when you’d really prefer not to endure it, e.g. in a closed environment such as a bus, waiting in line at the bank, or while rummaging through a dumpster for chicken discards.

The second stage, perhaps most mind-numbing because it’s incidentally something I’m unable to reproduce myself, is the snapping/blowing of bubbles.

Awwww...cutie PIE! Don't you just want to pinch those sun-damaged cheeks? I should warn you though: if the membrane of that gum breaks, your ass is grass, kid.

At least with the chewing you can sometimes push it to the back of your mind and out of focus for at least a minute or two before you remember it’s there and start listening for it again.  However, the crass, piercing, obnoxious snapping and erupting of bubbles often summons my inner murderous rage that I’ve been keeping mostly under wraps while I’m on parole for attempted vehicular manslaughter (I saw some guy chewing gum at a cross walk and couldn’t help myself).

Now that that’s out of the way, we can get to the real meat of the issue…the mechanically digesting meat.

Yes, friends, family, former lovers and current haters, I speak of the heathen who chooses to not only display his current meal to unwitting observers, but also to allow those unfamiliar with the effect that saliva has on preparing food for digestion, the marvelous opportunity to listen and become enlightened.  How gloriously magnanimous of you, kind sir!

No reasonable number of dirty looks, squinted-stares, or thrown cutlery ever seems to jar this violator from his mission to inflict torture and suffering upon those within ear/eye/spit shot.

"Hey, um, I should let you know I have an 8-inch hunting knife in my bag, here. Maybe we could work out an arrangement where all I do is dice up that delicious Granny Smith for you."

There are several levels of this infraction, as well.

The first is the unavoidable, incidental violation:  loud and crunchy treats.  These can be forgiven as a matter of course because it’s simply impossible to quell or otherwise muffle foodstuffs such as chips, apples, Melba toast etc.  However, it should be noted that the aforementioned leniency may only be extended until the first bite is taken, which leads me to the next level.

Level two is comprised of one eating chips or apples, and, after having made the first, agonizing crunch, continues to munch away, lips parsed, teeth bared, war incited.

The rhythmic reverberations lay an aerial aural bombardment on your precious sense of sound.  Is this worth going back to jail for? your mind nags.  I’ll fuck him up in the parking lot instead.

Unless you start beating this child now - and I mean immediately, Pavlov wasn't kidding around - it'll grow up to be a drug addict or Republican. Social ostracism goes hand-in-hand with loud chewing.

And finally, level three, the ultimate climax of such an unholy trinity:  the vermin who will chew loudly regardless of the composition of the food being tossed from one row of molars to the other.  Here we find another three levels of social defiance.  The first, lip smacking.  Second, tongue thrashing.  Third, a combination of both.

Is it really so difficult to simply close one’s mouth while eating?  You might as well be eating the rice with your hands, drinking wine through a straw, and foregoing pants at the table.

I don’t want to see, hear, or feel what you’re eating, asshole.

And those are some things that bother me.