Sanitation and Hygiene Week
Today is the start of Sanitation and Hygiene Week. Before launching into my usual nasty, insensitive tirade, I’d like to point out that lack of sanitation is a serious issue all over the world. A shocking number of people get sick and die from lack of access to simple soap and water, in places like Sudan, Kenya, Mozambique, and post-Katrina New Orleans. (Thus concludes the formalities.)
On to the insensitive tirade.
However, if people do have access to sanitary facilities and fail to use them, I wish they would die. Possibly by having me shove them into the river from a moving vehicle. There is no excuse for boarding a crowded city bus exuding an eye-watering cloud of unwashed ASS FUNK that would embarrass a cat in heat. I mean, honestly, why get on a bus at all? Where the hell can you possibly GO smelling that bad and be welcomed?
I was sitting on the bus, thumbing through a newspaper. Then this man gets on the bus, reeking of Eau de Hot Dirty Ass Crack. Care to know where the only empty seat was? Yep, right next to me and my sensitive nose. My nose was already being assaulted by an old bum sweating out the cheap beer he had for breakfast all over the seat behind me. So right after Mr. Butt Stench lowered his ponderous ass next to me (and partially into my LAP) I feared I was going to throw up.
I don’t mean like, “Oh, that’s gross” throw up, I mean I was truly fighting to keep my lunch down. For a glistening moment, I considered just giving up and hurling chunks of partially-digested grilled chicken sandwich all over Butt Stench, in an attempt to make him smell slightly less unpleasant. However, I wasn’t the only person leaning away from him with a pained, nauseated expression, and if I had let loose, I think the whole bus would have turned into a huge traveling chain-reaction puke-a-thon.
To make matters worse, every time I inched away to keep from coming in contact with his big unwashed ass (half of which was hanging out into the aisle), he apparently thought I was trying to make room for him to get comfortable. So he scooted over closer and closer, until I had to fend him off with an elbow to prevent him from pressing his vile flesh against me. I wanted to curse him out, but I didn’t because the long, profane lecture on hygiene that I was silently composing would have required me to gag in more of the befouled air in order to actually speak aloud.
This was all completely unnecessary, dammit. The guy didn’t LOOK dirty, and he wasn’t fat enough to make washing difficult. He just didn’t bother, for reasons known only to himself. He was SMILING through the whole bus ride, too. Hell, maybe he LIKES to smell like ass. People who deliberately avoid washing their putrid, sweaty ass should be shipped off to a third-world country where soap and water is hard to come by, and then maybe they’ll appreciate it more.
Bottom (no pun intended) line: Wash yourself, or don’t leave the house. Ever. And particularly not during International Hygiene Week, you nasty ass-reeking bastards.