The elderly Korean man sleeping uncomfortably next to me on the plane coughed a little and then I felt a tiny fleck of moisture on my finger.
"Gross!" I thought to myself... I wiped it away and ignored how disproportionately wet my finger felt as I was too busy feverishly jotting down notes in the margin of a book I was highly engrossed in.
Read it. Its awesome
I brought my pen up to my mouth as my superior-ly ambidextrous mind pondered the role of each lobe before jotting something down in the book's margin. As I brought pen to paper, I realized my hand was covered in black ink.... and as I pulled out a mirror... so was the lower portion of my face.
(Due to the author's extreme sense of vanity - an added benefit of being mentally abmidextrous - all pictures of her inky beard will not be displayed)
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