The Skank With The Gum

So close, yet so far. I actually have high hopes for The Skank With the Gum (see earlier post.) We swam laps side-by-side. She fussed with her flippers. Tugged at her jacket. Slammed the water enough to actually displace some. But as long as she wasn't littering band aids and chewing gum in the pool or on the locker room floor, I was cool with that.  I get out of the shower just as she is coming into it. Something about this chick I just don't like. And it's not because she weighs what I did in 8th grade. It's because I heard the other day from the other Ladies in the Locker Room that The Skank actually stepped right over the paper towel with her gum underneath it last week. Never bent down to pick it up. Never bothered to even wave at it. So, again, I'm out of the shower today and head for the sink to grab a paper towel on which to honk my honker. And there, lying every so brightly on the teeter-totter top of the garbage can, is a wad of gum. Chewed, red gum. Can't the bitch even push the top down on one side and spit or toss her gum in while the top is pivoted open? Did she spit it onto the top? Did she toss it and then become so busy, so important, so whateverthefuck, that she couldn't remove it and then dispose of her filthy byproduct herself?  Or is she waiting for the immigrant janitor to do it for Her Skankness.  Really, she is disgusting. I don't care how thin she is or how fast she swims.