He told me he’d been thinking about lunch since yesterday (Sunday)
A baked potato with cheese and coleslaw
He sat across from me happily reading the weekend’s football
Periodically he sprinkled salt on newly exposed potato
Halfway through his feast he started sniffing
The sniffing became louder and more frequent
I didn’t dare look, but I couldn’t help myself
There it was, suspended from the tip of his nose
He gave an extra loud sniff and it shot back home
Like a predator’s sticky tongue whipping back its living prize
Finished eating, he cleared up
Without a word he headed out for his fag
Experience tells me that he will clock back in before blowing his nose
My lunch was over


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