the continuing adventures of hairspray diva and germophobe lass

you may or may not know this, but I have a growing hatred for public restrooms.

I'm not safe, even at work.

Let me begin by explaining that I work on the 6th floor of a 9-floor office building.  There is 1 ladies' room per floor, and most of the time, when I venture over there, it's not just for the sake of taking a walk -- I need to use the ladies' room.  However, I am growing increasingly irritated by two other women on my floor who frequent the ladies' room.

First, and perhaps foremost, is the hairspray diva.  This fine specimen still rats her bangs with aquanet.  In the ladies' room at work.  At least twice a day.  If I have to go, and she's in there, I can almost guarantee that I'll walk out of there with a CFC high.  Yuck.  Oh, and she obsesses about brushing her teeth and smelling good, because she's always squirting Jovan White Musk on herself and everything else in the bathroom.  And she brushes her teeth for like 10 minutes at a time in there.  Please, I mean, does anyone like to be assaulted with a stranger's bathroom routine?  N-O.

So, yesterday, I was harassed by yet another specimen, Germophobe Lass.  She confronted me after I washed my hands with hot water and soap, by saying: " you realize that you are just spreading germs all over the company by turning off the faucet with your bare hands, don't you?  You should really use a towel."
OK, so my question is: a) what business is it of hers?  What is she, the germ police?  b) my hands are clean.  As are everyone else's who washes their hands and then turns off the faucet.  c) I don't care about the germs.  Really, I don't.  I touch baby poop every day.  I clean up dog puke on a regular basis.  I pet my cat every day.  My clean hands at work are the LEAST of my concerns.    I sorta wanted to explain that to her, but instead I just smiled and walked out.

Actually, what I really wanted to do was lick the door handle and then see how she managed to get OUT of the bathroom, but that, my friends, would have been cruel.

Whatever I ate last night...

I'm walking down this dark street in downtown chicago. I'm going to this highly exclusive nightspot with Dave; we're going to see an unadvertised, invitation-only performance of David Sedaris.
So, we have to climb up this fire escape scaffold up the side of an old brownstone to get to this big, red painted door with a silver 37 in a circle (the club's called circle 37). I am in a white skirt and blue silk chemise and about 4 inch heeled sandals. Needless to say, I'm lovely, but not in any garb that's suitable for shimmying up a rusty fire escape. Well, I managed (thanks to some chivalrous help), and we're at the door, we get in, we walk in to this amazing club that's all high-income, NPR supporter-types. We sit in this sunken area in front of a stage. The whole club is done up in red and silver and black. The stage is black with red curtains. We sit at tables for two with silver chairs, silver tableclothes, the drinks are served in silver goblets. It's freeking cool; I'm all pumped about how cool I am to be at this show, which, by the way, I'm really excited just to be at.
So the show starts and we're listening and laughing and all of a sudden I notice that to my left, there's this big glassed-in area that is like the "room for token invalids". I point it out to Dave, who looks and then says, Hey, isn't that your father-in-law? I look, and lo and behold, there's John Haggerty Sr, in a wheelchair and hospital slippers, a hospital gown and a blanket, peering confusededly through the glass at the show. Dave insists that we go into the token invalid room and sit with my father-in-law. I'd much rather sit at my cool silver table and hang out with all the other beautiful people, but Dave is adamant, so we go. I spend the rest of the show trying to explain David Sedaris' humor to my vietnam-vet, card-carrying republican, PTSD, homophobe father-in-law. I can barely hear anything without my father-in-law guffawing about something or asking me to explain again why this guy isn't wearing a wedding ring... Dave of course, flanking my father in law on the other side, not listening to my plight, but enjoying the humor of the show (and likely of the entire situation.)