Let’s talk about bathroom hygiene.
This New York Times story on bathroom hand-washing is making the rounds, and sparked a heated conversation in the Goldberg household.
As I’ve mentioned before, I’m a serious hand-washer. I’m not quite compulsive or obsessed or anything. But I definitely wash my hands more than the average person — the average clean person, that is. Hence my oft-stated rage around here about bathroom doors that open inward (making pushing the door open with your foot impossible), my absolute disgust for those linen towel dispensers that are on a giant spool in some bathrooms, and a slew of other gripes and grievances that I may or may not have mentioned in the Corner over the years.
Anyway, it turns out, according to the Times, that a lot of men — but very few women — don’t wash their hands after going to the bathroom in public places. Shocking news, I know.
So here’s the thing. There’s a public campaign to get people to wash their hands more. That’s great. I’m all for it. But what I would like to see is more cost-benefit analysis for the individual urinator (I’m assuming that it is always good practice, even in a filthy bathroom, to wash your hands after sending Michael Moore off to sea, if you know what I mean).
Let’s say you are a man of good hygiene and you use the urinal in a filthy public bathroom. Is it necessarily in your own self-interest to always wash your hands? Or does it make sense to get in and out of there as quickly as possible? There are some gas station bathrooms I try to enter and leave like a surgeon who has just scrubbed and who doesn’t dare touch anything. I don’t want to touch the flush handle, the door knobs, the faucets, etc. I hate the vaguely wet plunger on the paper towel dispenser, assuming there is one. Often, as you fellas know, there is no paper towel dispenser, just a damp roll of brown paper towels breeding E. coli and a new generation of flies or whatnot in the dark, dank gas station crapper. And I am supposed to wash my hands with soap that smells vaguely of gypsy cab air freshener and then smear those soiled swabs on my hands? Don’t get me started on the porta-johns.
Meanwhile, urine is sterile — a fact that only matters if you manage to pee incorrectly, anyway. I understand that public health officials have made a cost-benefit analysis for the whole society and have concluded that it’s a good general rule for everyone to wash their hands whenever they use the facilities. But, as we know from the tragedy of the commons, what is good or bad for the public’s bottom line isn’t always good for every individual.
I am now crouched in a fetal position awaiting a torrent of e-mail and a tongue lashing from Kathryn.