Note: A few days ago, I wrote a post I decided to categorise as a “Mini” due to its shortness. I tried to come up with another word than Mini, but I was very disappointed when I discovered that some of the best alternatives were “dwarf”, “midget”, “petite”, and the very repulsive “wee”.
Writing that Mini required minimal-to-no effort, and I kinda liked it for that reason. Writing Minis will also be a good way for me to increase the frequency of my posts, because I have been kinda shitty in posting regularly. On the other hand, I’m quite regular in posting irregularly, so I got that going for me, which is nice. Another good thing about Minis is that I can pretty much spontaneously grab my keyboard and just type away whenever I think of something write-worthy, since, again, these posts require no brain activity at all. Yay.
Today at lunch, I was sitting together with some of my colleagues while we were waiting for our food to come. Two acquaintances (super-awkward word to spell, which, by the way, “awkward” also is) showed up, and I greeted them with a firm handshake, as I mostly always do whenever I greet people.
As you may know, I’m living in Bangkok, a city that has a tropical savanna climate. In human, that is code for hot as hell, humid as fuck, and unbelievably sticky.
Whenever you would have to leave your air-conditioned whereabouts and decide to head out into the heat, you would actually (not really) hear your clothes go from normal to not normal and tightly squeeze your now all of a sudden sweaty body. That’s how hot and humid Bangkok often is.
So anyway, when I greeted my two acquaintances, I was on the receiving end of two remarkably sweaty handshakes. There was a moment of sheer panic when I realised there wasn’t anything to wash my hands with in the immediate vicinity. It was kinda like they had a second pair of armpits inconveniently placed in the palms of their hands, which is a very unpleasant thought. This got me thinking of how filthy people’s hands actually really are (or at least can be).
The image below will have to illustrate how a sweaty handshake feels:
Why people’s hands are filthy, and what I do to keep my hands un-filthy
People scratch themselves, pick their noses, sneeze, cough, don’t wash their hands after going to the bathroom (a fact I witness too often in the men’s room), they come in contact with cash – notes as well as coins – that only a higher power knows where it has been before in its lifetime, and so on – and then they touch you.
Those are just a few of the reasons why I religiously avoid touching the handrails on escalators. I never, ever directly touch the doorhandles in public bathrooms or even the flush button without covering my fingers with paper first. I reluctantly hold the potentially bacteria-infected posts on the train only to keep myself from falling when the train out of fucking nowhere makes these sudden, startling twists and turns, leaving everybody in the train in the arms of each other. Whenever I have to press an elevator button, I tend to press it with my knuckle, a card or my keys – anything to avoid direct contact.
I know I may appear insane for not only thinking about all this, but actually living like this, but my insanity is not the point of this post. The point is simply that human hands are (or could be, for policital correctness) filthy, bacteria-carrying body parts, especially(?) in warmer climates where sweat is added to the mix, as if things weren’t traumatising enough.
So… I guess what I’m really trying to say is… wash your hands.