I didn’t just wake up one morning a total germ freak. I’m a product of my environment. I developed my chronic hand washing/sanitizing as a result of seeing some really disgusting and foul things over the years. Now that I’m a Mom, and my kids are still young, I’m battling to keep them healthy in a dirty, disgusting world.
Just so you understand, and don’t judge me too harshly, here are some of the reasons I am why I am:
If you’re new, you may have missed the incident last year where I was trapped in a car and forced to pee in a Huggies Size 6 diaper (you can read that one here). Now, had I just used a public rest stop bathroom, I wouldn’t have had this problem. My issues with public toilets had been building for quite some time, but one incident that occurred when I was twenty really sticks out and was probably one of the biggest contributors to my public toilet phobia.
I went on Spring Break with three of my roommates to Cancun, Mexico. On the next to last day of the trip, I was so drunk and dehydrated that I drank melted ice water from a beer cooler at a bar. Genius right? The last day of our trip (and for another three weeks after) Montezuma had his revenge. Long story short, our plane was delayed going home and the airport was under renovations. When I finally located an open bathroom, there were only two stalls. The first door slowly creaked open to reveal a clogged poo and pee filled bowl that made me gag instantly. I stumbled backwards and felt a shift in my own bowels that was the only thing propelling me forward to the next stall. I bargained with God, swearing never to drink again of this next toilet was workable, and cautiously approached the door. After the door opened far enough for me to see the only other available toilet, it revealed a horror my brain could have never comprehended before. The seat…the seat….I’m sorry this is hard for me even now….the seat was COVERED in pubic hair. And just so we’re clear, I mean the entire seat was covered in HUNDREDS of short, dark and curlies.
I remember standing there just totally sick, hungover, and tired staring at the seat for a minute. Then I began to cry. My mind couldn’t comprehend what could have taken place in that stall. It was one of the worst things I had ever seen, and if you’re a believer in post traumatic stress, I’m telling you I had it after that. I’ve never looked at a public toilet the same way again. So what did I do? I cried a while and I stood in the bathroom holding my stomach and wishing I was back in the States. A friend said she’d stand guard and I could go in the sink, and then a stranger came in with the same travel related illness. This girl was either crazy or a super hero, but either way she braved the pubes and the crabs I was sure were there too, and wiped the seat down. After she cleaned and used the toilet, I layered about 7″ of toilet paper on the seat but still hovered, praying my ass wouldn’t catch anything from being within 3 feet of that previously furry seat.
That was just one incident in a foreign country’s airport. Surely, my experiences here would be better? Or not. I worked for years in a corporate setting, with various levels of management, and I can’t even begin to count how many times while using the bathroom at work, that I would hear a toilet flush and then the door open and close. These people just wipe, flush and walk right out of the bathroom without washing their hands. These nasty people, many times slipped in and out without revealing their identity. Who were they? Who knows…was it the person using the copy machine or fax ahead of me? Maybe. Were their shitty hands punching the same buttons I would be using? Were they hitting the elevator buttons and then heading to the cafeteria? Were they handling the cups and sticking their poop-ridden hands in the ice (don’t even get me started why someone’s bare hand need be in the ice machine)? Perhaps. Were they someone in a meeting who would shake my hand? Could be. So when coworkers would tease and joke with me about my hand sanitizers and Clorox wipes, I would always smile and laugh too, but who knows, maybe they were the ones not washing and then carrying on with their day happily spreading shit (literally) around.
Bad news for some folks was if I caught them trying to leave without washing, I would say something. Not embarrassing for me; they’re the nasty ones. Anyway, my point is, I’m like this because of the things I’ve seen time and time again. I’m like this because every time I see something I thought was the worst possible thing I could see (like the pube toilet), someone does something worse.
Without further delay, I give you the worst possible thing I could see someone do in public. I’m pretty sure I would go postal on this lady if I saw this. (If you watch Tosh.0, you probably saw this on last week’s episode. If you don’t watch Tosh, and you are easily grossed out, don’t watch this nasty ass-digging lady who could live in your town, pump from the same gas pumps, shop (and handle) the same produce, share the same library books, etc, etc, etc).
|Tosh.0||Tuesdays 10pm / 9c|
|20 Seconds on the Clock – Dingleberry Season|
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