Dirt, Peanut Butter & The Toilet Door

In a world where Mysophobia is the norm, where the believers pine for the kiddies who aren’t perpetually drenched in a solution of antibacterial soap, preaching from all available pulpits that “the end is nigh”, I find it somewhat peculiar that they dismiss something as simple and as obvious as the Public toilet.

Putting the toilet aside for a moment, the consequence of this new age collective germophobia is that over the last 30 years it has become accepted that parents who allows their kiddies to play in the dirt are irresponsible and bordering on negligent. The result? The good people at Johnston & Johnston have higher sales of anti-bacterial soap, the term “mud pie” has been banished from our children’s vernacular, and an eaten worm is now met with a frantic rush to the emergency room.

I don’t remember the exact moment, but germs and the avoidance of germs became the highest of priorities. However, as I am personally wired to avoid blindly accepting so called “new age discoveries”, I unfortunately missed an opportunity to purchase shares in Johnston & Johnston. I regret this, especially with the free publicity awarded by the new Mysophobiac ministers and their sermons of cleanliness, and a demand for these antibacterial products reaching the height where they‘re now manufactured for portability.

As with all extremists, different factions started to appear in this fundamentalist movement. The Mysophobian anti-bacterial church splintered and the more extreme Mysophobian anti-vaccine church was born. I suspect that one day we will see people in bubbles going about their business lobbing as a minority group, trying overcome the discrimination to which they are subjected, but I digress

Such was the prominence of these movements that a strange thing happened. People began to get sick from diseases of yesteryear and developed anaphylaxis against substances which have been around for years. In just a decade or two, the once ‘inert’ peanut butter sandwich transformed from a common ‘staple of sustenance’, into a schoolyard ‘biological hazard’. So now my palatable indulgence of a bowl of Peanut butter & chocolate ice cream followed by a neat glass of 10year old Talasker, consumed whilst lighting a Cohiba Habana Siglio no V cigar, has morphed me into one of the most dangerous people for the future of our youth.

But here’s my issue, we have all these nutters running around the place spouting nonsense but no one has complained about the universal problem with the public toilet. I am not a germophobe, but this particular issue torments me on a regular basis. From 5 star hotels to local pubs and shopping centres, nobody seems to notice that the entrance door to the restroom always opens inwards. That is to say when entering a restroom, I am able to open the door with my foot, but upon exit I am compelled to use my hand. It horrifies me as I wash my hands during the inevitable parade of people coming and going without even acknowledging the sink and faucets, that when it is time to leave, I must reach for the slightly darkened smudged aluminium handle on the door. Perhaps if a sign was posted saying “This door handle may contain peanut particles” something might be done. Ironically, the handle is surly to have peanut particles, but I'd rather not dwell on this any further.