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I’m Not A Germaphobe, I Just Play One When You’re Sick And Touching Me!

Updated on October 22, 2009

Well a big, “BRAVO!” to the media for making both the common flu and the latest politically correct named strain of flu, H1N1 (instead of making swine feel badly about themselves) and making all of us hyper aware that around every corner the germs are lurking and trying to get at us at any cost. Now I’m not one to go along with the crowd (as anyone can tell who ever read my postings online or knows me in person) so when the whole spraying up people’s noses and the next to be shots and the worry about whether there would be enough vaccine to go around or if we’d have to make Soylent Green out of people to create more of the magical elixir that was to keep us safe I have to admit that I sort of took the whole, “This could never happen to me approach.” I wash my hands a lot on a regular basis and I’m pretty good about the vitamins and supplements I take so I was feeling pretty good about not marching in the H1N1 Pride Parade of vaccinees when I encountered my dry cleaning woman. Just from looking at her I could see her red puffy eyes and baggage enough to go on safari under her eyes. And as she held out my change I realized that I’m not a germaphobe, I just play one when you’re sick and touching me! – Don’t Get Me Started!

I used to be an actor of sorts for a living so I normally pride myself on the way I’m able to fool people into thinking I’m interested in their farchacta story of their child saying their first word, or making the woman behind the counter at the bank think that she’s just changed my life by making my deposit. These are things I do in life to ultimately get what I want. I over compliment as needed to get not what I need right at the moment maybe but to get what I eventually want. Because you see, some day when that bank teller has all ready closed her window and sees me standing in that long line she’s going to remember how nice I was and go ahead and motion me forward and take the five extra minutes to help me while the non-descript losers stay behind in line waiting for the one last teller who is on and is as slow as the side of Anna Nicole’s head that did math. So all that said, I think I’m pretty good at having a p-p-p-p-p-poker face. Let me set the scene for you, it was closing time at the dry cleaners but the woman who works there motioned me in anyway and locked the door behind me proving my point that all those times of telling her that her hair looked nice when it looked exactly the same and was awful was paying off. The only problem was when my dry cleaner, nose a-running went to hand me my change I know I grimaced and placed my hand a little lower so that she would drop the change into my hand instead of placing it there making contact with the lunar surface of my hand. My performance was a complete failure for as she completed the transaction she said, “Don’t worry I just used sanitizer before I came to the counter.” “Yeah, right.” I thought as I wondered if I could get away with cutting my hand off at the wrist or if I was going to have to take off the entire arm. She unlocked the door and I left wishing her a better feeling rest of her evening.

As I got to my car I suddenly became aware of everything I was touching. And while I’m pleased to say that I’m not a nose picker on the whole, suddenly I wanted to, I wanted to pick my nose very badly but knew that would be the start of the end, like hoof and mouth disease, I would be taking the infected finger that had gotten the diseased change and shoving it into my nose where it would begin to spread like wildfire through my system until I had become an H1N1 statistic. As I was laying on my death bed I would film a Public Service Announcement warning kids about the dangers of picking your nose and it would become a YouTube viral (literally) sensation (which I’m sorry to say the ones I’ve posted to date have so not reached this status - only to die never knowing I was a YouTube sensation for two days and had even been shown on Oprah as a moving tribute and warning to children everywhere not to pick their noses. I’m glad to say that this urge subsided and I did not pick my nose.

When I arrived home I began the disinfecting process of not only my hand but everything it had touched. Now I’m not one to do all of this normally but as I see how many people are lining up for their shots and knowing I won’t be one of them (probably more out of laziness and a cockiness that only comes from being an American who thinks he’s Superman without any Kryptonite in sight) I realized that perhaps I did care a little more about this whole new strain of flu than I was letting on. I thought of making a doctor’s appointment, I thought of changing dry cleaners and then I did what all red blooded Americans do, I decided instead of doing anything to just sit down and watch TV instead where to news came on to a story about how much vaccine was left in Vegas. I’m not a germaphobe, I just play on when you’re sick and touching me! – Don’t Get Me Started!

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