Your Sh*& DOES Stink And Your Hands Are Dirty, Too!

I've been absolutely dying to write this post, thinking about it for days and days, turning it over in my mind. Why? Well, first I love the title (I conjured that one up a few days ago and have lovingly let it marinade in my my head ever since). Years ago, when Adam and I first started dating, he made a comment about a guy he knew who "walked around like his sh*% doesn't stink." I had never heard that expression before and just about fell over laughing. It's been one of my favorites of all time (a new favorite is "He totally threw me under the bus"--the imagery of that). Anyway, just seeing some arrogant little punk of a guy walking around (in my mind, he's walking around like he has a pole up his butt) thinking his crap smells like roses is one of those thoughts that can totally make up for a bad day. But then again, this is me we're talking about. I love potty humor.

So, I write this post not to go on an on about nameless arrogant little men with unreasonable expectations about the aromatic quality of their feces; no, I write this because of the many arrogant men and women who have unreasonable expectations about the sanitary quality of their hands after using the bathroom. I now have evidenced countless women (and the ones at my job are scientists no less!) who decide they do not need to do a good soapy bubble-up of the hands under a running tap after using the facilities. Who are these people? Well, I shall not name names, so as to protect the guilty, but let me give you an idea of the types of people we're talking about:

--A woman I know whose passion is fighting for women's equality in society, the law, and the environment, but evidently not for her fellow woman's hygiene in the bathroom

--Countless female scientists in my current job who study bacteria, fungi and other microorganisms for their graduate/faculty research. Have any of these ladies ever taken a swab of their hands and put it under the microscope?

--For fear that I would not hold gross men accountable for their unsanitary behaviors, I know guys who avoid washing their hands after holding their "junk" to urinate. Direct contact with the pottying behavior necessitates hand-washing, in my opinion.

In other potty-related behaviors, past visits to bathrooms across campus have resulted in my friends or I seeing any number of the following:

--A woman standing ON TOP of the toilet seat, squatting over it to urinate or whatever it was she was doing. I will mention that she was Asian, and I know (from experience) that many nations throughout the world don't have actual toilets to do one's business in; oftentimes, it's a glorified hole in the ground. So, I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt when I was told this story, but sorry, it's still kinda weird. Oh, and how did my friend actually observe said individual? The toilet-top-squatter hadn't bothered to close the door to the stall, either.

--Speaking of which, I went to pay a visit to the facilities, one day right after quittin' time (~5:30pm), and when I walked in, the stall immediately ahead of me was half-open. As I pushed the stall door to walk in, the occupant (yes, there was one) angrily pushed the door back in my face! Okay, so why would one assume that they can leave the door to their toilet stall open at 5:30pm on a workday? Obviously there would still be people around. And to top it off, she slammed that stall door in my face as though it were my fault!

--My good friend Kate once told me that it's her pet peeve to hear people groaning, moaning, sighing or expressing some other verbal irritation while next to her toilet stall. At the time, I just laughed, but I have since been witness to said vocalizations and totally understand her annoyance with them. There's just something none-too-pleasant about a ker-PLUNK! in the toilet and an accompanying "ahhhhhhhh...."

BUT the story of all stories, was one told by my good friend, affectionately know as "V". I love this story on many levels. First, V. was pretty young (~22 or so?) when she first told it to me, and I remember her wide-eyed disgust and incomprehension of how someone could do something so vile. Second, the vile quality of this story is so high that I wish I could claim I witnessed it. But, this is V's story. Anyway, V and I used to work together a few years ago. One day she came to my office with a stricken look on her face. When I asked her what was wrong, she said she'd just come back from the bathroom. She said that the secretary had taken quite a bit of the departmental mail with her into the bathroom. Let me rephrase that, the secretary had taken the mail with her into the stall. V said disgustedly, "She put it all on the floor of the stall, and then she started sorting through the stacks and stacks of mail while she was on the toilet! I was in the stall next to hers so I would see her reach down and open some of it, and then sort through the rest of it. While she was on the toilet!" I asked V if the secretary washed her hands after but she just looked at me half sick.

That is my favorite potty story by far. I've been waiting quite a while to write about the "overly ambitious secretary" who can't even give herself a few minutes away from her work to potty. That gal deserves a raise!

So folks, the take-home message here isn't to gross you out (well, maybe it was a little) or offend, but to remind you that you're not the only one out there in the world. There might be someone who wants to open up their own, fecal-free mail. So kids, wash your hands.