I purchased my first car when I was 19. It was a red, Ford Tempo with like 6,000 miles on it. I remember that I used to tell people that it was the type of Tempo that looked like a Taurus, if by saying that it somehow made it cool. It didn’t. It was red. It was a Tempo. I was a tool.
It was a car. It got me around. But the funny thing I remember is when I bought it I was told that nuns had previously owned it and used the Tempo to cart themselves around to various church outings and such. So, one day, I’m cleaning the inside of my Tempo that looked like a Taurus – tiny side note, I was vacuuming the seats and scrubbing mud from the back floor mats; mud that had come from Steve Guest’s work boots, as my friends and I had all worked at the Grosse Pointe Shores DPW that summer, and Steve liked to disrespect people’s automobiles with dirty shoes – anyways, I was cleaning it and when I reached under the seat to grab at anything that was under there, I pulled out at least 20 Kleenex. Tissues that had been used to blow noses, wipe snot, pick boogers with.
Tissues that came from a nun’s nose. Or maybe a priest’s proboscis. Regardless, I had a hearty laugh while holding them, then got severely grossed out that I was holding onto someone else’s petrified nose dirt.
So, to recap: I drove a Ford Tempo; at age 19, my friend Steve Guest never cleaned his boots; snot is gross regardless of whose it is and should be cleaned up by the owner of said snot rags.
About a month ago, I was waiting for one of my friends to get ready and watched as they pulled their head back to the mirror so they could look up their nose. They were checking for any pirates in the cove, cars in the parking lot, fans in the stadium – you get what I mean. I started to make fun, but then realized, I do that too. And so does everyone else. I mean, who wants to be caught in a meeting, or out at the bar, or in class with a plane backing out of their nose hangar. It’s not cool.
So, my advice; always make sure the nostrils are cleaned out and you’re not keeping anything up there.
On the topic of keeping things clean, I really think public restrooms are foul. I know I’ve touched on this topic before, but had to mention it again. While in Chicago’s O’Hare Airport, I had a sudden urge to go to the bathroom – that is, urinate, not the other. Anywho, I’m not a fan of the urinal, as I believe it splatters back onto your pants and hits your hands and if someone is standing next to you, well, there’s a big effing chance that their piss is hitting you too. So, I walked into a stall and went. Now here’s where it gets gross. For those of you who like to do the other thing in public, there were no paper toilet things to cover the seat so you didn’t touch it with bare skin. Instead, there was a machine hooked up to the back of the toilet that, after each flush, rolled a new plastic cover, as in grocery store bag. It sickened me because I highly doubt those things are replaced every time they’re empty and I bet the same bag is used over and over and over. I wish humans had evolved to where we didn’t need to use public restrooms and we had no waste. But we do.
I also think that all public restroom doors should be push to open, not pull – both for going in, and leaving said area. That way, I can Chuck Norris the door and not touch it all with my hands, which will have been previously cleaned and scrubbed until they were raw to get rid of all germs and bacteria I come into contact with.
My final point? Germs are a motherfucker, folks. Germs are a motherfucker.