An Unsanitary Debate

Today's Confession:
I don’t always wash my hands after going to the bathroom

I’ll pause for a moment to allow the wave of horror to wash over you.
Ooh, feels kinda tingly...

There are a couple reasons for this:
1. I’m a lazy
2. No, seriously. I’m THAT LAZY
3. It hasn’t killed or otherwise negatively impacted me as of yet

Granted, I make an effort, especially when I feel that unnecessary contact has been made between my hands and something unpleasant, but it’s more often to appease modern-day etiquette than anything else (the aforementioned situation being an exception). I’d say that I wash about 10% of the time, rinse about 50% of the time, and mosey along the remaining 40% of the time.

I mean, I honestly have no idea how you people do it, but as a rule, I generally try not to go to the bathroom on my hands. I also try to generally avoid contact with said bodily waste by using toilet paper and resisting the urge to fling my feces at my coworkers. (Although we had a close call today - I won’t go in to details, but it involved the development of yet another standard operating procedure).

Here’s the thing. People have lived for thousands of years without those adorable pocket-sized bottles of Midnight Pomegranate Anti-bacterial Deep Cleansing Hand Gel from Bath and Body Works. Granted, their hands might have not smelled as Midnight Pomegranatey, but they survived, none the less. Hell, up until 1676, we didn’t even know that germs existed. Likewise, we as a species have spent century upon century handling animal excrement and raw meat and human sewage and all other sorts of nastiness. Did some people die? Absolutely. But obviously more people lived than died, otherwise we wouldn’t have this adorable little overpopulation crisis that we have today.



So, if the majority of people survived long enough to reproduce despite the Germ-Fest Extravaganza going on on their digits, then why, exactly, should I soap up every time I take a tinkle? It’s the question I ask myself every time I hit the Ladies’ Room, and I more often than not give a half-hearted rinse and go about my business. Sometimes I don’t even go as far as to rinse at all. As a result, nobody has died. Nobody has gotten sick. Nobody has noticed my lack of hygiene and hit fire alarm, causing my coworkers to race from the building as if we just had a HazMat spill.

We have a code fuchsia. I repeat, we have a code fuchsia. One of your coworkers has not washed her hands. Please move to the nearest exit in a calm and orderly fashion.

Likewise, I am hesitant to slather myself in antibacterial substances. To me, there is nothing more futile than trying to keep germs off of your hands. The minute you touch something, you’ll be covered in millions of those little suckers again. In case you haven’t heard, they’re everywhere. So unless you want to walk around like a zombie with your arms stretched out in front of you and your hands waving in the air, antibacterial gel isn’t really going to keep your hands germ-free. Not to mention the fact that antibiotic resistance is a raging epidemic in this country. Ever heard of MRSA? If not, you will soon, because at the rate that we’re using broad-spectrum antibiotics, most bacteria will have developed some sort of resistance in the near future, and we will be S.C.R.E.W.E.D.

And despite my unsanitary lifestyle, I’m as healthy as the next guy. Perhaps even a little more so. I successfully dodged one stomach bug and two respiratory ailments that were passed around the office this winter. My manager, who uses antibacterial gel at lest 4 times a day, got sick. Twice. This little fact proof enough for me that circumventing the soap dispenser when I leave the bathroom is not going to get me killed.

So go ahead and get grossed out if you want. Refuse to shake my hand or share my drink like I have the HIV or some shit.
That’s fine. I hate sharing my stuff anyway.
But I gotta tell you, the germs and me? We’re chillin’. We’re hanging out and drinking margaritas by the pool and everything is copasetic. I don’t attack them, and they don’t attack me. It’s all very zen.

Besides, germs are just another government conspiracy, right?