Turning Shit into Gold since 2006
Riding on the bus, holding tightly to the public handrail with not a care in the world, I look around at my fellow riders. A woman with three plastic bags full of Ramen noodle packages handles dirty coins in her free hand, while two young children lick their palms and stick them to the window, unaware of the germs they are casually smearing on city property. The homeless man sitting near me is emanating an odor so offensive that there is good reason to believe that he has substituted his hand for toilet paper in the last 24 hours.
Although I surveyed and acknowledged the dirtiness around me, a moment of repetition took hold and I did the unthinkable. The itch in my eye snuck up on me and my hand took over before I could stop it. Finger in eye and rub, rub, rub. The filthy pole I had been grasping to was bare and the germs of those seen and unseen were now in my eye! The ocular horror!
The unwashed hands and the flu-like symptoms that I had just rubbed in my left eye made my stomach drop to the soles of my shoes. I suddenly envied those paranoid individuals who walk about in surgical masks at all times of the day; at least they have the hygiene sense to keep Tom, Dick, or Harry’s fecal matter out of a vital organ. Again, the ocular horror!
From my dirty realization on bus #338, I desperately hope that I can warn all of those who choose to ignore the filth around them. In no way am I afraid of germs, I simply hate the idea of inadvertently rubbing a stranger’s dead skin in my eye.