The Blob

It all started out so innocently, just a group of coworkers sitting around a large conference room table which served as our lunch break area.  An assortment of brown bags and lunch pails was strewn before us as we politely munched on sandwiches and discussed a variety of subjects. 

One 60ish gentleman was talking animatedly about something when he paused to blow his nose.  He honked noisily into his handkerchief, then wadded it in a ball, stuffed it in his pocket, and continued his speech, engaging eye contact with everyone around the room.  The rest of us sat there in frozen horror.  None of us knew what to do, for there, on the tip of the man’s rather large nose, was a perfectly round, large blob of something that had somehow missed his handkerchief. 

It was so large it couldn’t be missed, and seemed to take on a life of its own, bobbing up and down with every movement of the man’s head.  Clearly he thought he had our undivided attention, as we were all too stunned to move or look away, and he talked on and on for what seemed like an eternity.  I’m sure we all wanted to say something to stop this embarrassing display, but we were too shocked or revolted to do anything other than stare at the blob at the end of the man’s nose.  It was round and white and glistened in the sun shafting through the window.  I had no idea what the man was saying and could no longer focus on anything except the large, gelatinous blob dancing around the room.  Was the man still talking or had the blob taken over the conversation? I’m not sure, but this happened over 30 years ago and still sticks (ick) in my mind.