8.18.2003

A Brief Discussion on Germs for the People Who Go Through Life and Never Think About Them

As I'm indulging myself in my afternoon snack at the local TCBY, where they practically know my order, face, name, and car, something very upsetting took place, and it has nothing to do with how my order was prepared. The light hearted may breathe again; however, I caution you that this story may still, indeed, turn your tummy and make you never sit down at a public place again.

I opened the door to my local joint and my eyes first caught a scene of a little boy having his pants pulled up. I noticed he was in diapers, not a huge deal. But because I notice a diaper, I immediately think a changing must have occurred, naturally. I was right. Luckily for me, I missed that part. I do see the mother with a travel size of wet-ones and then I spy to dirty diaper OPEN, ON THE TABLE, WHERE PEOPLE CONSUME THEIR FROZEN TREATS. I cannot, nor do I want to, spy which element is filling the diaper. I see the mother tape it up and put it BACK ON THE TABLE as she picks up everything else.

At this point, I do let out a gasp and look around to see if I am the only one witnessing this event. I see a man, clearly looking at my reaction and clearly seeing what this woman has done. He smiles at me, but I'm not totally sure he has just witnessed this event and is equally, rightfully as horrified as I am. If so, there should only be a furrow across his face.

So, I'm kicking myself for not whipping out my camera phone and taking one of those, "What's wrong with this picture" pictures. After they leave, I notice the glaring light on the table, which illuminates what I believe, is a print or smug, rather, from the dirty diaper. I think to myself that no one is going to know what just took place on that very table, which is probably for the better.

Should I ever leave the comfort of home again?

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