Colossal Jerk

7am.

I'm in the mall, on my way to the gym.

I smell tobacco smoke. I look around to see where it's coming from. I spot a man walking just ahead of me, with a half-smoked cigarette hanging from his hand.

At that moment I wish I were a cop, just so I could slap him with a hefty fine for being a jerk, when suddenly he leans over and hawks a loogie at a shop entrance, right next to the closed roll-door.

Had I thought him a jerk? I was wrong; he's a colossal jerk.

I give him a long, hard stare as I pass by. "Peasant," I call out as I turn toward the escalator.

Lord, I need to learn how to say that in Cantonese.

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