Tuesday Late Nights

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I'm taking a Tuesday night grad class this semester at Penn, and we get out at around 8 PM. Last night, the teacher ended a little early and I raced from the room---I'm always racing from the room after these classes--and did a fast walk down 34th Street toward the Market/Frankford subway; just made it down the stairs as the train was pulling in and felt good about that, but then just missed the connecting subway at City Hall. Such is life. One thing I wish wasn't part of the subway experience is that moment when you're waiting on the platform, reading your library book (in this case, The Picture of Dorian Gray for said class), and you hear the guy behind you hock a giant snot ball into his throat. Then, there is the pause before he spits it onto the train tracks. This same guy did that about three times in as many minutes. Should he maybe be hospitalized for an upper respiratory condition? What it made me want to do is to bring forth my own loogie and spit it out in a similar fashion. Because most women don't do this, unless possibly they're playing sports. But I hear it from men all the time. Someone please explain.

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