Spittle

There once was an antiquated law, that in some places is still very much on the books, that you aren't supposed to spit on the sidewalk. Gone to the wayside with all manner of other social etiquette, I never really thought about it too much. Until I was walking down the street today and literally saw five people spit on the sidewalk when the gutter was literally a step away. I found myself watching where I stepped only to find a minefield of loogies in my way.

Then I began to think about how many times had I spit on the sidewalk in my lifetime? I can honestly say, intentionally never. A fan of distance hocking or using a trashcan or grass as my spittoon is much more my style. I also prefer carrying a napkin to relieve such yuckiness.

Pondering further, I thought of all the airborne diseases that might be spread that way. Then I thought of all the bottoms of shoes that step in these slime puddles and then latch onto all sorts of other disgusting items. The thoughts kept on reeling.

I then began to wonder the reasons why this positively primitive and uncultured behavior was not curtailed. Thus the issues of policing it, and the already burdened justice system. What would the fine be? It would of course be only a minor infraction unless the person could be proved to have previously known that they had some ailment that could endanger others. That would be all but impossible to tackle even if true.

Then I looked at whom was actually committing the etiquette crime. A crime of unsanitary proportions. Men. Men. Men. I am sure there are some women who feel that they can achieve this level of carelessness, but mostly it was men. I stopped pondering. I just sat back. Nothing left to say. Nothing could be done.