I was eleven years old and had just finished a floor combination beautifully. My dance teacher walked up to me and said, “That was good. Your arms need to extend more. Work on your head angle. You aren’t chewing gum are you?”

I scurry to throw it away, I knew I was busted. “Only whores chew gum. Do the combo again. Ready? 5, 6, 7, 8!”

That was the last time I chewed gum with a clean conscience. (It’s funny, because that’s around the time my pastor told me that I skied like a whore.)

Her declaration and judgment left a mark and I can’t be around people who are chewing gum without getting very irritable. I’m repulsed by the sloshy, repetitive noises and the popping, the incessant popping. I can’t chew gum anymore because of some bad dental work that I have to get fixed. But when I used to chew gum I was alone. It’s one of those things that should be done in private. There’s no shame in it, just don’t do it in front of people.

I bring this up because the woman next to me on the train has been chewing and smacking her gum for half an hour and this entry is my attempt to calm down and not snap at her for her sloshy popping. I don’t think she’s a whore, she looks more like a paralegal.

I met a very nice woman a few years ago and she was a sex worker at the time. I asked her a lot of questions because I was curious about her experiences. I was disappointed to find out that she doesn’t ski, because I was hoping to finally figure out what that meant. When I told her what the pastor said to me about my skiing, she laughed until she cried.

And there’s something else I found out… She chews gum.