ehowton (ehowton) wrote,

ehowton the fornicating drug user

Back one day in 2006 my good friend somebritinmass traveled home to Great Britain and sent me a very nice gift - dry, crumbled snuff and a tartan handkerchief. Not moist "chewing" tobacco snuff as we call it in the United States, but the type you insufflate; snort. I tried it a handful of times and it certainly did (as my clone would say) "brighten the room" but ultimately I found it impractical and troublesome and banished it to my humidor where it would keep indefinitely.

Fast forward five years and my wife is on an all-day outing with my daughter while my clone and I are finishing packing away all my IT gear from the move for room clearing. She comes across a carefully folded tartan handkerchief and I explain its use as it was explained to me by somebritinmass because I certainly didn't know what to do with it at the time. From wikiepdia's explanation:

When sniffed, snuff often causes a sneeze. The tendency to sneeze varies with the person and the particular snuff. Generally, drier snuffs are more likely to do this. For this reason, sellers of snuff often sell handkerchiefs.

As I was explaining all this to my clone, I pulled the can from my humidor and for the first time in five years opened it. It spilled out onto the island bar, so I cut it and made two lines. I snorted the first line, and she followed suit. We stood there giggling, then did it again. While we didn't sneeze, she did have a Hitler-esque snuff mustache, so we wiped the tobacco from our faces with the cloth. That's when I noticed our neighbors were in view through the sliding glass door!

Now I'm not used to neighbors, nor houses butted up against ours. Our temporary dwelling here is not as wide-open as our house in Anna, and the neighbors behind us have line-of-site into our kitchen, and had potentially seen everything. I can only imagine they thought I was snorting coke!

But it gets worse.

Later that same day, my wife is in her easy-chair watching television and clone and I are sitting in the floor at her feet drinking wine. I spy the can of snuff and reach for it, then pull my clone onto my lap until she's straddling me, dump a portion of snuff into of her hand, and we take turns snorting it from her palm. That's when I see, once again, the neighbors. From the back window now in the living room. And they can see me and my wife's cousin, but not my wife, whom they've met and know. They see us together at the local grocery store.

I can't imagine they would come up with any scenario in which I'm not a fornicating drug user.


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