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I wonder if Howie Mandel has this problem?
The
reason I bring up the star of “Howie Do It” and “Bobby’s World” is because the famed
germaphobe knows his way around the fist bump, and this simple act of tapping
your knuckles against those of another man – or sometimes woman – has been
causing me a lot of headaches recently.
I’ve got a light dusting of OCD, so
washing my hands is a pretty important thing for me. I do it a lot. Not to the
point that it holds me back from living my life such as it is, but I still
think I wash my hands more often and more thoroughly than the average man.
Anyway, one thing I don’t do
thoroughly is dry my hands. I prefer a good air dry. I’ll use paper towels if
they’re available, but I tend to get carried away. Before I know it I’ve gone
through a couple dozen of them, and somehow my hands are still not 100% dry. Like
the Great Pyramids of Egypt, I can’t explain this, it just is.
Seeing all those wasted paper
towels tends to make me feel a little guilty about the starving children in
Africa who can’t afford paper towels and also endless fields of massacred
trees.
But I hate those hot air blasters
some facilities have installed as a more eco-friendly alternative to paper
towels. Those don’t dry my hands either, but they are louder and more obnoxious
than paper towels. Also, in bigger restrooms it always seems like the sink to
hand drier ratio makes no sense. Why are there two dozen sinks and three hand
driers?
All that is basically the
long-winded way of saying my hands are almost always wet when I leave the
bathroom. Very clean, but also very wet.
There are several people at my
place of business who are just obsessed with fist bumps. I’ll go all day
without seeing them. Until, that is, I walk out of the bathroom. Then POOF! There
they are, fist extended for the bump.
Of course, my hands are both wet so
now I’m in a dilemma. Do I try to quickly dry ’em off? Go for the bump anyway?
Give a panicky “Sorry hands are wet?” Ignore the kindly gesture entirely and
come off like a dick?
No, I usually go for the first bump
wet hand and all.
I’m usually fairly mortified after
this exchange. I put myself in their shoes and immediately think: “Who is this
dirtball with the wet hands? What did he do, just pee all over himself?”
However, if it bothers them, they
don’t seem to be letting on. They keep coming back for more fist bumps. But
deep down inside, I can’t get passed the idea they walk away grossed out.
Perhaps I need to work on my hand
drying technique. Or maybe I’ll just stop going to the bathroom at work. You
find out some weird stuff in there anyway, like who’s got a prostate issue and which
of your co-workers doesn’t wash his hands after going to the john.
The guys who don’t wash their hands
are the real dirtballs, anyway. But they’re hidden in the background passing
germs around like hotcakes, while I’m on the frontlines driving myself crazy
imagining people giving me dirty looks because I went above and beyond the call
to make sure those same germs where DOA.
Some thanks I get. Geez.
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