Filthy habit

I’m going to get all strait-laced, thin-lipped and tut-tutty for a moment. I’m sorry but I am. It’s just this: why oh why do people have to spit in public?

Every early-morning jog is invariably marred by having to dodge countless blobs of froth-slimy hideousness. Why do people feel the overwhelming need to get rid of their saliva when running? Granted, it can tend to get a bit thick and gloopy (sorry), but surely this is reason to conserve it rather than dehydrate the mouth further? I certainly don’t eject it and I’ve never choked on my own spit. I just don’t think it’s necessary. Perhaps those who exercise outdoors feel they have some special dispensation to perform anti-social and disgusting acts because, well, they’re rugged and active and that’s what sportspeople do?

Now if this were legitimate (and I’m not conceding for an instant that it is, let's be quite clear), it makes it even more inexcusable for non-exercisers to hawk and spatter all over the street. Yet I see it everywhere and at every time – people discharging mid-conversation, spritzing and hissing with odious abandon. Vile sputters of mucous-drool leaving glistening gobs of festering filth behind them…

Am I overreacting?

In trying to think why this makes me shudder so, I dredge up a particularly sick-making childhood memory of walking behind a man in Hong Kong (where spitting was even more distressingly common than it seems to be here). Either it was a particularly breezy day, or the pedestrian traffic was moving at a faster-than-usual clip, because it seemed only a split second after hearing the sickening hack that the resulting phlegm smacked wetly on my neatly pressed shirt. Scarred for life.

The other reason I really dislike the habit is because I think it is often done with intent. Let’s go back to jogging for an explanation. I have noticed that the more attractive you find the person running past, the more likely he is to spit in passing. It’s as if, sensing some incoming ogling (not that I ogle, but you get my point), a sputum-defense mechanism swings into action to make the object of appreciation less appealing. A sort of gaydar jamming technique, so the gentle thrill of any innocent eyeballing is completely ruined. Fiendishly and depressingly effective. Because really, who could ever look with appreciation at a common expectorator?

All spit, no polish.