Leaving the pediatrician's office, we got on the elevator with the product of swine flu mania.
We walk up behind this guy, his wife and their brood of three, as they're making their preparations to leave. Alcohol sanitizer up to the wrists and hands held up in front of their faces to let the goop dry.
"Don't touch anything!" he yells at the little one, who looks to be about 3ish and probably has a long history of touching (and eating) things he shouldn't. When the green arrow dings, the five board the elevator like a crack team of surgeons; scrubbed and waiting to be gloved.
The smell of the citrus and rubbing alcohol is strong in the elevator and I wonder if the guy is concerned about the superbug he's creating with his enthusiastic use of hand sanitizer.
I find the idea of a superbug a totally fascinating concept. It's like Darwinism at its finest. Only the strong survive, so eventually we're left with only the ultimate of the species.
Then a thought hits me. What if neurosis is the ultimate trait for humans? What if I'm sitting here mocking this guy's paranoia and *I* end up being the guy who gets knocked out by H1N1 on some random elevator button because I wasn't phobic enough? What if the ultimate specimens of our species, and therefore the only survivors, are knuckle-bumping sleeve-sneezers who use Clorox wipes for Kleenex?
How silly.
But I've started washing my hands whenever I can. Just in case.
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