It is with great sadness that I must report that the “Jurassic Booger” is gone.
About eleven years ago, in the men’s bathroom on the fourth floor of the building I work in, someone (not me) gave birth to a fairly large booger measuring almost a centimeter in diameter. This gift of dried mucous and bloody scar tissue was placed carefully at about the seven foot mark just above the decorative wood strip above the urinals. I remember my initial disgust at the remnants of someone else’s bad habit slowly turning into a small amount of respect; it was an impressive booger. Only a missing nose hair kept it from perfection. What went through this guy’s mind after mining such a large chunk of nostril ore? “That’s purty, I’ll share it with dah world”; squish.
Years went by, and the booger lived on. I would move on to another job somewhere but return years later to a new administration and system. I had forgotten about the booger on the fourth floor until the day I ventured up the flights of stairs to take a leak.
There it was, still there. The booger had mutated over the years, turning almost completely black with age. I gave it the name “Jurassic Booger” – it seemed to fit.
All good things, though, must come to an end. I don’t think the cleaning crew got to it as there are small marks as evidence of its existence. If someone was scrubbing up there that high I would assume they would leave no trace of the nose nugget behind. Maybe someone got tired of looking at it and chipped it off with a pencil. In any case, a piece of history is gone.