I'm a well read technosexual who's bluntly honest about all things, although I try to be most honest about myself.
Woman at work grabs my box of chocolate granola chunks from Trader Joes. I surpassed my instinct to grab them back protectively. Before she can finish asking 'can I try these,' her hand is in the box. Appalled, I tell her I don't like people doing that.
She insists she's clean because she's just washed her hands, and I haven't seen this in the break room. Sickened, I ask, 'in the public bathroom?'
We argue that we both have parents who are medical doctors, and excuse me lady, but hospital/public bathrooms are so gross doctors have to wash their hands before going in and leaving.
'Did you touch the door?'
She mumbles something that implies I'm crazy for not wanting to eat after someone who just touched the public room bathroom door stuck her potentially urine/feces covered hands into my fucking box of granola. In other words, she fails to convince me - and I still think public bathrooms are fucking disgusting and I tell her to keep the box of granola. She pleads feeling guilty and tries to give me money because of this, and I keep insisting that beyond the money, I am stressed out from school and I want to control who touches my food and when. Aka, I don't want to eat from the toilet, which since she can't guarantee I'm not because what if the person before her didn't wash their hands before leaving, and touching the door. All the while she's insisting that she's the 'cleanest person she knows,' which, no, she's not because I go out of my way not to touch public bathroom doors, using either paper products or my clothes - which I will, y'know, clean - instead of my hands. So clearly I'm cleaner than her because only Primus knows what's on those doors.
She huffed a little, I huffed a little, and then she left and I spat out the stuff in my mouth because I felt absolutely nauseous, drank and spat that out multiple times, and surpressed the urge to cry. And also trashed the box of granola which she didn't want, probably because it might have well been urinal-food now? But, yeah, I should go right on eating that potentially literal shit, I guess. Also, I will never fucking bring food to work again because people apparently think it's okay to use the public bathroom doors and then stuff their hands into boxes of my food, WTF, why? (And yes, Trader Joe's granola comes in boxes - at least some of it does.)
I ended up buying Our Final Invention for a school project and because I'll read this book again and again and four geeky moleskin notebooks for the price of one - yes, sale - before this happened. I was so distraught and in need of comfort, I also got an Oswald Cobblepot Gotham Funko, and a couple of gifts also on deep discount just for fun.
So here's what I really want for comfort: a comic in which robots take over the world and aren't eventually killed by people. Like I want a hostile fucking takeover because you need to understand it's not about money or food: it's about boundaries, which this lady didn't understand. She crossed a boundary, I'm feeling stressed and vulnerable, and I needed her to back the fuck off - or better yet, keep her gross pee hand off my food. Like do people really think this is okay?
I'm gonna go look at my adorable, vampire-haired Penguin and try to forget this horrible fucking day that started out with another work thing that also was someone just really not respecting my boundaries and that I told a manager about and he was like, yeah, no to this. (He was also in the break room when I came off and let out this big frustrated sigh and told him about the food thing and he was like, 'yeah, no, people shouldn't do that, and I'm laughing because the way you phrase things like I need to control who touches my food is hilarious to me.' Fair. But I just need to put this out there to tell everyone who shares workspace: just keep your hands off other people's food. Your line won't be theirs. So just fucking keep your hands out of their food.)