Do I have Something in my Teeth?

Yesterday while at work 4 colleagues of mine came into the showroom. They came in pairs. The first 2 and I decided to order lunch for everyone, knowing the other 2 were on their way. 2 of the 4 colleagues I'm friends with, one friend, the other very good friend. (I promise I'm getting at something here, just bear with me.) The one very good friend and I walk to the Thai restaurant to pick up our lunch order. It's a 2 block walk and we chat the whole way there, chat while we stand in the foyer waiting for our food, and chat on the way back. My other 2 colleagues have arrived in the showroom when we return, I say hello, give my other friend give him a kiss on the cheek and he immediately points to my teeth and says, "You have something stuck in between your teeth." I gasp! I'm humiliated! I take my finger and start scraping at whatever particle is sitting there rotting away in my mouth. He's watching me the entire time. I flash my not so pearly whites again and he says, "Nope, it's still there." I'm back to the scraping, this time really digging, not caring at all what I'm doing to my fingernails or to my teeth. I give him one more huge cheesy grin and he tells me I got it! Phew! Victorious! I later say to my colleague, the very good friend who I had talked to all morning, "Why didn't you tell me I had something stuck in my teeth?" He says, "I didn't want to embarrass you." I politely thank him, thinking that I was embarrassed when my other friend pointed the grotesque piece out to me. However, after thinking about all the clients I had talked to that morning with this object stuck in my teeth since, most likely breakfast, I get even more angry! Isn't that what friends are for? Shouldn't we all tell each other when we have something stuck in our teeth?


This morning on the train into the city, it's cold outside, so I'm all bundled up, hat, scarf, gloves, the works. I sit down in my train seat, a 2 seater facing a 3 seater. It's now warm on the train so I take off my hat and gloves. I see the guy sitting across from me, decent looking guy, sort of, you know, staring at me. I'm slightly flattered, but listen buddy, back off! I'm married! He obviously hasn't noticed my ring. I politely give him a half-smile and crank up the tunes on my iPod. He looks as if he is going to say something to me so in order to avoid an awkward conversation, and actually, conversation in general on the 8 AM train, I adjust my earphones and close my eyes for the next 30 minutes into Grand Central. Upon arrival into the station, I open up my eyes and the guy is still looking like he has something to say! The train comes to a stop, we both stand up at the same time and he finally says, "You have something stuck in your hair!" Again, humiliation. Is this the reason the guy has been staring at me? Immediately I grasp for my hair, but find nothing. He says, "No, it's still there." I try again, but this time, he moves my hand, reaches for my hair and gets it himself! Uh....what is going on? He was right, it was a large white fuzz from my winter hat, but is it me or does anyone else agree that it was pretty weird for him to remove the item from hair? I think I turned at least 37 different shades of red before I thanked him and ran off the train. (Careful, to watch the crack between the train and the platform.)


This brings me to my question. Is the proper thing to tell a perfect stranger if they have something in their teeth, their hair, etc? Or is that something that should be left to a friend? Like the other day in the showroom, a man walked in with his zipper completely down. Yep, wide open. I was tempted to tell him, but refrained, thinking that telling a man his zipper was down might be construed as inappropriate. Another day on the train, I was sitting across from a woman who had an obvious black mascara smudge on her face. She was a cute, huge pregnant woman, who I probably should have told that she had mascara on her face, but didn't because again, I was a stranger. But the more I think about it, as weird as the moment was, I truly did appreciate the stranger on the train removing the white fuzz from my hair.

My solution is, for now, I am going to say it would be okay if I had told the man about his zipper as long as I didn't zip it up for him. Or if I told the woman about her mascara, as long as I didn't lick my thumb like my mother used to do and wipe it off her face. People say, carrying mirrors in pockets is a sign of vanity. I think it's a sign of intelligence. One never knows when they might have something stuck in their teeth.