The Touch of Death II

The first installment of The Touch of Death dealt with a co-worker whose yard-long braided hair dangled against the commode at work, which goes to show that even individuals who fall into the category of “average clean” because they do make an effort to wash their hands neglect to recognize major violations of cleanliness.

Many months have gone by since that crime against purity.  I also related that I was relieved when, after many years of having long locks, the offender suddenly cut them off to her shoulders.  That was a welcome sight; no more danger of commode cross-contamination.

Recently, this issue once again raised its ugly head.  I walked by the perpetrator and saw with dismay that her hair was growing longer.  She seemed to like her short hair, so I wondered why she would be letting it grow.  I had to ask, and I regretted it.  She proudly announced that the product of her first haircut had been donated to charity.  Not only that, this woman’s self-sacrificing spirit was moving her to grow it out to make a second donation.  Admirable, indeed.  I know if I were sick and in need of such a gift, my last concern would be receiving toilet-tainted hair.  I could have made that statement truthfully a year ago, but after seeing the defilement with my own eyes, a head scarf seems to be the better way to go.  But surely the hair was washed prior to cutting, you are thinking.  Was it super-washed?  Then it doesn’t meet my standards.

I can’t help seeing increasing instances of contamination by toilet.  At least these others aren’t from direct contact, but they are real nevertheless.  The woman who used a stack of papers to scratch her leg has been accounted for here:  http://www.myocdlife.com/2013/06/17/reality-check/  Since then, I have noticed that she and many others in the office have the undesirable habit of tapping paperwork and even files against their legs.  These objects reach down far enough to touch the calf area of their legs – that’s the part that brushes against the toilet when they are in the restroom.  These contaminated items are usually brought over to be put on my desk.

And let’s not forget the supervisor who came to my desk so that I could look up a case on my computer.  As he was trying to point out the particular case note in question, he leaned forward to make sure he had the correct one.  I moved out of the way, but his tie dangled precariously over my keyboard.  I am almost positive that it did not touch the keyboard, but just in case, I had to clean it anyway.  That tie hangs a little too close to his belt, and on another occasion it, without a doubt, did brush across the keyboard.

How is a person supposed to survive the muck and mire of this life?  I wish there were a way I could telecommute.

 

 

 
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