Yesterday I went to the post office to send the jacket onto Sydney that our o/s visitors had accidentally left at our place. In fact as we walked out of place to take them to their transport, we were discussing leaving things behind when on holidays. Duh!
A man standing behind me in the post office queue burped loudly in my ear and I was enveloped in a fetid aroma. Pig.
A very handsome sailor boy crossed near me in Bourke St. His uniform was perfect as were his dark looks. It was his day, Anzac Day and he was representing our country in public. From between his lips he ejected a stream of saliva and phlegm onto the ground nearby. Pig.
Maybe I am old fashioned, but spitting in public disgusts me.