These are my personal observations in life where sometimes the stupid meets the insane.
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Wednesday, September 03, 2003
Spreading the Filth!
Since I was a kid I’ve been taught to always wash my hands before leaving the restroom. I’ve worked in restaurants where you wouldn’t dare walk out of a restroom without thoroughly lathering up. Even radio and television news stories call attention to the dangers when preparing certain foods if your hands aren’t properly cleansed.I was in the restroom last week where I was washing my hands when this guy comes out of one of the stalls. Since I was just about finished getting the soap off of my hands, I moved to an open spot so he could use the sink. Just then I hear the door open and he vanishes into thin air. Yuch! I’m not verminophobic nor do I suffer from mysophobia but thoughts began to swirl in my head. Is he going to hold hands with his significant other? How many of his friends is he going to see today and grace them with a handshake?
After a few moments of self imposed mental torture, I forgot all about the incident and headed over to the restaurant for dinner. I was about 40 feet from door of the restaurant when I couldn’t believe my eyes. Equidistant from me on the other side of the door of the restaurant was Guess Who? You’re right, Mr. Filthy Hands. I naturally assumed he was going to pass the restaurant and go to one of the other stores in the mall. Then the reality flashed into my mind. He’s heading right for it. Yes, he was heading right for the restaurant. (Click here to see my reaction.)
I felt as if I was in an old spaghetti western. We were walking towards each other at the same pace. In my mind I could hear the theme of “The Good, The Bad and The Ugly,” hear the faint clinking of spurs and see a piece of tumbleweed being blown down the street by the wind. I had to pick up my pace to beat him to the door. I certainly didn’t want to look like an idiot trying to get into the sandwich shop without using the door handle.
Ironically, my timing was impeccable. We reached the entrance at the very same instant. I reached for the door. He also reached for the door. I pulled my hand back quickly as if it were about to be bitten by an alligator. He opened the door, gestured and said “please, be my guest.” I gave him a huge “thank you” and went to the counter almost at a dead run. I ordered and received my meal, grabbed some napkins, sat down and began to eat. Mr. Filthy Hands sat about three tables over from me. I couldn’t help but look over at him occasionally and remember our previous encounter. I won’t share my thoughts here but believe me they weren’t pretty.
As I was driving to my next appointment I pondered just how fortunate I was to dodge that bullet. I tried to put out of my mind that I may be well on my way to having a full fledged case of verminophobia.
Posted by Life's Little Observer
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