Sunday

A normal Sunday morning:  you wake up and shower, shave, maybe eat some breakfast.  There are always things you do in the morning to prepare yourself to interact with other people.   Most, if not all, of these morning rituals help you so as not to repel those around you throughout the day.  So why is it that on the one day of the week when everyone puts on their best appearances and tries their best to look and smell presentable, do people not care at all about their breath?  This question has plagued humanity since the dawn of organized religion.  Where did it start?  Does it only affect the Christian religion, or is this a world-wide epidemic?  Is there a Buddhist monk somewhere in the world who is like, “I really want to achieve enlightenment, but I can’t focus when Master talks in close proximity.”  Why do they make toothpaste that turns your breath into a rotten fog? 

There are many questions I have on this subject, but the big question is why does no one say anything to these people?  The common solution to this dilemma is the charity chewing gum/mint.  First, take a piece out and chew one yourself.  Then, offer one to someone else that doesn’t really need it.  Finally, you offer one to the stricken.  Most of the time they will politely accept and everyone goes on their way as if nothing was wrong.  However, there are always those certain individuals who say, “Oh, no thanks.  I don’t chew gum.”  Or  “ Oh, I already have some gum, but I’m going to be eating in a little bit so I don’t want to chew any right now.”  They might as well say, “No thanks, I like repelling people with my acrid breath.”  The problem with most of the solutions for this quandary is that none of them are a permanent fix.  Now I will admit that I have found myself with a case of “Sunday Breath” on occasion, but most of these culprits are repeat offenders and no matter how hard one tries to come up with a permanent solution, there has yet to be a solution to permanently eradicate the point at issue without turning one’s already gaunt relationship with the afflicted into an incredibly awkward experience every time you see them.  As such, we are all doomed to a life of forced pleasantries for the sake of staying in good social graces with those who choose not to acknowledge their lack of oral hygiene.  

So, as I prepare for another Sunday, I have to brace myself for the onslaught of the halitosis-ridden church-goers who inevitably want to know every miniscule detail of my life at a distance most Europeans would find uncomfortable (Europeans having a habit of traversing way past a person’s conversation comfort bubble as it is).  Perhaps the Catholics had ulterior motives when construing the idea of confessionals.