chew bakka laureate

why is it that i fail to notice or to look at people when they chew? i don't. i won't. it's too cud-like and unflattering. i imagine how i must appear chomping on a runny egg, or spoofting bits of oyster cracker onto a table of startled customers like a dog, chops flibbering, spit flying. it's not a pretty sight. at the movies i notice actors chew the way they've been taught at drama school, as if there's nothing but soft air in the mouth. 'i am pretending to eat but i still look fabulous.' at brunch where the hangovers chow down, the gnashing that coincides with mastication i ignore. i see eyes, beards, shorts, legs, ass, but no chaw. nobody chews in my universe. i picture other things, dirty things, hot behavior, but not chewing. behind a Geisha fan i bat averted eyes.