At work today, the "sanitation engineer" grabbed my shoulder with his right hand on the way down to pick up my trash can with his left hand in order to empty it. Sure, he was wearing gloves, but those are for HIS protection, not mine. After he dumped my trash, I watched him reach into the trash can to pull out the remaining sticky items with the very hand he grabbed my shoulder with as I pondered... how many other times has he done that before me? How much of other people's sticky goo is now on my shoulder?
After he left, I stared at my shoulder for what felt like a solid minute, with my jaw wide open in shock as I shrieked internally... what the heck did he do THAT for? What the heck am I gonna do about this shoulder? Frickin EEEWWWWW!!!!
It was a total Seinfeld moment. Jerry would be proud. The only difference was that Jerry would have taken off his shirt and thrown it away on the spot. I didn't think that would have worked out so well today, even though I was wearing an undershirt.
So, instead, I had a co-worker spray me down with Lysol. Leaving me smelling flowery for sometime afterward. But for most of the day I remained rather suspect of my shoulder and what critters might have been lurking there.