I am washable

I am washable. This was a tag on a jacket I recently purchased and my current motto. As lovely as it is to spend every day in my rollerskate pajama bottoms and wife beater, I do fancy a nice hot shower. I also fancy a bath every now and again, and people who wash their hands before cooking and after using the toilet. 

I was discussing washability with some coworkers and one was particularly disturbed by the fact that a certain employee does not wash his hands after using the toilet. “I’m guessing he is figuring he is the only one touching his junk and his junk is clean, so what’s the point.” “Oh no,” said my coworker, “that couldn’t be further from the truth. It is not clean, there is a lot that goes on in there.” I’m still not quite sure what that means, but I’m intrigued.

After work, I stopped by the library (for the record, I didn’t wash my hands before doing so). I had a few holds to retrieve and, while doing so, I overheard another patron reviewing his ‘checked out’ list with a library employee. “Yes, see, it is right there,” the patron told the library employee. “Yes, I see it,” the library employee said while pointing to a section of the list, “you’ve got Syphilis.” “Right,” the patron confirmed, “and I’d like to renew it.” Who doesn’t want to renew syphilis?

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