If you have ever read “This is Going to Hurt” you will know that there are things that should never be inserted into any orifice.
Peas should definitely not be stuffed up the nose. I have lived by this lesson for more than half a century. Lego has always sat uncomfortably in all nasal passageways, even if a third party tried to deposit it in an act of generosity. Grass seed, however unavoidable, is best avoided. Inhaling tea or sea water is not an aid to wellbeing. However odd, the odd bramble is best diverted in an alternative direction.
Other people’s bugs, up the nose, are not a lot of fun. The Grand is liberal with them. After a week of sneezing and spluttering, it’s unclear to me, if the bugs he so sweetly shared were an orchestrated campaign, on the part of the Capital’s toddlers, to make an early bid for their inheritance by polishing off their Grannies, or whether it’s simply nature making the cross generational leap. I expect Public Health England have been looking into this but I doubt news of their findings will make the ten o’clock news.
Passing by the large Albertine rose which slumbers over the top of one of my neighbours garden walls, I can appreciate the upside of what goes up the nose. I’m not averse to the waft of perfume, although sometimes I wonder about the prudence of such a liberal approach.
Smell can be a helpful way of mapping out time and place. The bakers door that stands ajar signals the freshness of the bread. Cooking smells, bonfires, barbecues all have something to say about who is doing what as we go about our business. They offer comfort in familiarity.
Pottering about, I know that tutting is a clear indication that the person I am probably just about to bump into is probably within sniffing distance. I’m too close for comfort. There’s not much I can do about that.
What’s new, is the large cloud of stinking vapour that should definitely not go up the nose of the casual passer-by. Without the benefit being able to have early sight of this impending threat it’s hard to avoid. Vaping is now a habit practiced by the casual and not so casual walker, by people waiting to cross the road. It’s sweet sickly stink, not to mention the clouds of steamy smoke clouds that a good lung full can pump out, are not easily avoidable.
I was waiting to cross the road, captive as I awaited the beeping, that signalled my right of way. I was enveloped by the foul content of his lungs and there was not much I could do about it. He was chuffing away. I was holding my nose.
Some kind of audible advance warning of an approaching vaper would be appreciated by those of us who can’t get out of the way. They could be obliged to shout a warning. Something like “I’m here and I stink” would work for me. How hard could it be to change by-laws? Surely there would be enough people, who have the good grace to keep their guilty pleasures to themselves, ready to support this. If there was the public mood, those issuing the warning could be obliged to sing it. I think the concept has already proven itself. “Bus reversing” and “Long vehicle approaching” have shown their worth so why not a falsetto warning that a cloud of stinking vapour is approaching?
If all of this comes to nothing, I won’t be stuffing veg or bits of plastic up my nose but I am wondering about the merits of a high fibre diet.