According to you, that 50-something guy who works in accounts receivable has a completely gross and non-ignorable wet coffee stain on his mustache, yet he’s trying to hold an office breakroom conversation with you about this warm February weather.
“Yep, this is really unseasonal for this time of year, particularly for Richmond,” said the guy, identified later as 53-year-old Dominion employee John A. Nichols, and whose Folgers-dipped mustache is matched in disgustingness with his hour-old Folgers-heavy breath now vigorously permeating into your own mouth and nose.
“Don’t get your hopes up, though, cold weather will be back in no time,” Nichols said, taking another sip of coffee and pronouncing each letter that requires an exhalation into long, drawn out syllables, as a drop of opaque liquid formed on an ungroomed bristle of his facial hair. “Will be heading back down into the 30s in no time, better break out that jacket again.”
“Yeah, I saw that on the news this morning,” you said, trying to turn a blind eye to the repugnant, possibly dyed whiskers, now fully doused in breakroom coffee.
According to sources, this is not the first time you have been unable to concentrate on a conversation with the heavily-mustached Nichols. Last year, the man who finds it necessary to wear short-sleeve Oxford shirts with ties made small-talk about his daughter’s basketball game, a discussion you disregarded after realizing he had an abundant amount of nose hair, in addition to the fact that you absolutely did not give two shits whatsoever.