Of Advice, To A Stranger

Oh, I know what you’re thinking: What advice can I — a man comfortably in his fourth decade — offer to one such as yourself, not even twenty years on this little green dirtball, and thus vastly more knowledgeable in the ways of this wicked, wicked world?

Never-the-less, do allow me to try.

I shall not attempt to advise you that, when using expectorant as a condiment upon a customers hamburger, one really shouldn’t go for the Deep Lung Hork. While it is a loud enough — not to say distinctive enough — noise to elicit giggles from your co-workers, only persons of the late-teens/early twenties age-group are cunning enough to recognise that noise as an indication that Things May Be Afoot.

Likewise, far be it for me to point out to you the tactical — nay, strategic — difficulties involved in Saying It With Saliva at a cook station fully open to the view of the cash registers. And the people at said cash register. I bow to your Youthful Treachery, sir.

In the same vein, only a naif would fail to understand that it is only the most wonderful of coincidences that the customer whose food you are so sublimely spicing is the same middle-aged man to suddenly point out of the window and exclaim that person, or persons, unknown are — and I quote, “Messing with your car, man!”

How a complete and total stranger would know which conveyance is yours, or to even care that it is being “messed with”, is a testament to your cunning, Young Sir, but bless this most naive of your elders for bringing this to your notice and allowing you to rush outside to interrupt the “messing with”.

No, the advice I offer this fine fall afternoon involves the simple white cotton handkerchief.

If you were to get into the habit of carrying one of these items on your person at all times, you would find it of remarkable utility: one could dust off a seating place, hand it to a damsel to allow her to blot tears, or even to blow ones nose — although it appears that you have that process well in hand, so to speak.

Or you might even be able to use it to staunch that crimson gush spewing from your afore-mentioned snot-locker like the Devil’s own fire hose.

Just some advice.

By-the-by, I was truly inspired by the way you pounded that middle-aged man’s knuckles with your face. You brilliantly displayed The Stuff Of Which You Are Made. Bravo, sir. Bravo.

Nothing but love,


For my Gentle Readers of the Medical Persuasion ...
For your viewing pleasure: more "right-wing rage".

20 thoughts on “Of Advice, To A Stranger”

  1. Lawdog returns after a missed absence!

    Most sage advice, one might almost conclude some personal involvement in said episode.

    One might also ask, without going into details, where the condiment-delivering troll might have ended up (after appropriate medical attention, reading of rights and the usual declarations of sympathy,of course)?

    Should be easily recognizable in the future-troll marching north, nasal passages pointing due east.

  2. Nigh on fifty years ago my mother (God rest her), gave me that very same sage advice.

    The handkerchief has been handy for many chores over the years, but available most recently to wipe the tears of laughter from my eyes this evening.

    Kudos, & regards…

  3. Thanks for putting a smile on my face on a grey Saturday morning. Aged guile beats youthful vigour every time.

  4. Stick to fries and chicken nuggets, lest the vengeful younger generation do something worse to a salad, in the guise of dressing, or a sandwich, likewise disguised as a condiment-in particular do this if you happen to be eating at a place staffed by Indians in the southwest…..just a suggestion.

  5. I would love to get the Paul Harvey moment and hear the rest of the story. Just this snippet is enough to get me laughing out loud.

  6. Running ones face into another's knuckls, can, at times, be a learning experience. OTOH, the lesson is lost on some.

  7. LawDog, please eMail me diamond.mair-at-gmail.com, sooner rather than later ……………….

    Semper Fi'

  8. I prefer a nice dark bandanna myself. Just as useful as a white one, but less likely to show stains and wear.

  9. I think this should be one of those stories in "chicken soup for the closed knuckles" books.

  10. A fine example of age and treachery trumping youthful energy. Now our young friend can list all of the main ingredients in a five-knuckle sandwich.

  11. Lawdog,
    Please pray tell one which fine eatery this miscreant WAS employed at. One would like to avoid it in the future if that is the quality if it's employees….

    Perhaps one of the work rags that you can buy for 2 bucks a pop for a roll of 10? You know the red ones? those would be a bit hard on the the old snozz though. *shrug* oh well its a thought.

  12. Phlegmy, I think it's more a case of Sumdoap had a job. See my blog for further details.

    One point you missed Lawdog. To add insult to injury, he got his lights punched out by a guy likely old enough to be his father. Said father apparently having failed in his duties to do so years previously.

    I'm glad I wasn't on the ambulance that responded. Once I heard the story, I'd not be able to withhold my laughter.

Comments are closed.