This is weird! There is a man two tables away from me (about 20 feet or 6 meters) staring at me while he picks his nose. I have had both men and women make goo-goo eyes at me, but never have I had someone stare at me while knuckles-deep, in his nose, picking away.
This man has short black hair, black bushy eyebrows, a thick black mustache, brown skin, and a long fat nose. Perhaps his nose wasn’t always long and fat, but grew that way from vigorous picking.
Is he aware that he is staring at me with trance-like eyes? Probably not. Nose picking is an altered state of consciousness, a type of meditation. He is meditatively mining. He is looking at me, but his mind is somewhere else. Knowing this doesn’t make me feel any better.
He stops staring at me once he takes his finger out of his nose to look at his treasure. He rolls it between his finger and thumb for a bit before he flicks it on the floor. But the instant he puts his finger back up his nose, he resumes staring at me.
Why would he want to stare at me while he is digging for gold? Do I remind him of a booger?
The other puzzling thing is the length of time he has picked and stared. It’s been over 30 minutes with no end in sight. When I pick my nose, I’m boogered-out in a minute or less. This guy is still finding boogers after 30 minutes! Perhaps he is not finding boogers. Perhaps he is digging so deep he is getting pieces of his brain. Who knows?
How awkward I feel! Whenever his finger is in his nose, his eyes are on me. But I can’t complain. I don’t have the courage to go to the librarian and say, “Would you please ask this gentleman not to stare at me while he picks his nose?”