Hot Take: Germophobes

Other people are disgusting. I get it. That's part of the reason why I like looking at other people. I appreciate being disgusted by the conditions of their physical humanity.

I have a couple of secret and disgusting habits myself. So ingrained are our own disgusting habits that we don't know what others find disgusting until they tell us. And we certainly don't care unless they are a loved one.

That being said, some habits are not disgusting. Sure, they are inconsiderate, but disgusting?

This is the problem I have with germaphobes. They are annoying activists that are disgusted by inconsiderate behavior. To them, every human action they disagree with is a threat to the safety of their health. It is exhausting to live this way, and germaphobes that want to live their private lives disgusted by inconsiderate behavior should do so privately so as not to drag normal people down to their level of misery.

It is like politics, or religion. Unless expressly asked for opinions on these matters, or if the conversation naturally ebbs in that direction, these topics should be avoided unless you are prepared for potential hostile disagreement. If not, simply shut up.

Last week I was in the work breakfast tent 15 minutes prior to its closing. Normally it is open for 2 hours to allow time for the entire crew to eat. As such, I was in the tent alone to feast upon the scraps. As I eyed the croissants I noticed another man, also late to breakfast, and sensed him milling about behind me. I chose to be inconsiderate, and hedged that the man wouldn't see my next course of action or wouldn't care if he did see it.

I picked up one of three remaining croissants with my bare hands, tore off a piece and put it back on the communal tray. Croissants are designed to be torn and I didn't want to commit to eating a whole one. This guy turned out to a nosy activist that could also see through my body.

"What about other people?" he asked with a rude intonation. I looked around the empty tent and chose to respond rudely to his rudeness. "Ah well," I shrugged then added "There's no one else here." If there were more people in the breakfast tent and more people to come to the breakfast tent I wouldn't have touched the croissant with my bare hands, yet this activist spoke to me like the breakfast tent had just opened and was full of people.

Naturally the activist didn't like my response and continued to insult me. "It's disgusting."

It wasn't, so I ignored him. He wasn't going to make me miserable. I still had to a full day of work.

His activism backfired, and his attempt to shame me will never result with me not tearing off a piece of croissant in an empty breakfast tent; nor will I change my actually disgusting habits.

I am vindictive because I am not going to allow myself to become a hostage to someone else's extreme fears. I want that man to live in fear of an unsanitary life and I want someone with poop on their hands to give him a high five.