Germaphobes on the Road

Post 11

Life on the road as a germaphobe is challenging to say the least. Just simply being around so many people on a daily basis exposes you to humanity in all its dirty/germy glory. Which is good or bad depending on how you look at it. 

I’m not sure when this obsession became a part of my personality, but I’m positive that is was early on in my existence. My parents like to tell a story of how when I was little (I have no memory of this) a disinfectant commercial came on TV and I got all excited, exclaiming how, “we need that product!” Myself as well as my three siblings are all a little OCD about germs so I imagine that the root of this illness stems from my parents. 

It’s not that I’m to the point where this phobia controls my life, but it definitely effects me daily. Becky and I worship the hand sanitizer Gods. With hands clasps together we pray to them multiple times throughout the course of a day. 

Living amongst the public and never truly having your own (clean) space to retreat to wears on you. Something I will never understand, but that frustrates me to no end is how nine out of ten restroom doors open inward. Ideally I’d like to do my business, wash my hands and then use my foot to kick the out-swinging door open and retreat from the dirty bathroom. But again this is only possible one out of ten times. Which would be fine if every bathroom had hand towels to use to open the door handle with on the way out. But right along with most restroom doors opening inward, most restrooms also only have hand dryers and no paper towels, essentially leaving you stranded in the bathroom with a dilemma. How do you MacGyver your way out of this room without touching that germ-ridden handle? Do you wait until someone from the outside world opens the door and rescues you as you slip by them to freedom? Or do you sacrifice the pinky finger on your left hand by using it to secure your release from the dreaded poop chamber? I usually opt to slip into a stall and acquire a few what I like to call freedom squares of toilet paper to use on the door handle. 

Which brings me to a very sad realization I have almost every time I use a multi stall public restroom, which happens often these days. This is the loss in faith in humanity with every dirty SOB who uses the restroom then walks right on out that door on their merry filthy way without washing their hands. I can only comment from a guys perspective, but easily less than half of men wash their hands. I truly hope that women are more considerate than us disgusting men but again my faith is lost in this respect.

There are many, many more hygienic issues I have while living on the road, but the last one I will share mainly because it seems to keep happening. Which is bartenders and servers fingering the rim of my beer glass. I’m not a stickler on proper service standards even though I waited tables for over ten years. I could care less if you served me from the left or right, but please when you handle my glass hold it from the bottom. Not from the top where my lips will be meeting that divine sector of the Gods. Cheers if you agree!