I feel like my arm needs to be severed from my body. Have you ever touched something so filthy that you have no idea how you will ever scour the putrid feeling from your fingers? I fear amputation is the only answer. Or a vat of boiling acid.
I guess one should never assume that common sense dictates the same things to everyone. I suppose I thought that most people were aware that laundry detergent was necessary in order to avoid one's clothes smelling like a foot, ass, and a dead animal all fused into one fantastically malodorous conflation.
This idea has apparently escaped someone with whom I live. Or his olfactory system is severely malfunctioning. Either way, my hand was the one who suffered the wrath of his filthiness. Needing to wash some clothing (with detergent,) I foolishly assumed that the clothes in the washer had been...washed. I plucked out a pair of shorts and tossed them into the dryer above. As said article whooshed (they were kinda whooshy shorts) past my face, I felt like I had just been punched in the nose by a rancid ham. If a rotting corpse could run 15 miles, peel off his sweat soaked vestments, and then toss them in a churning cauldron of sewage, the smell which assaulted my nostrils might be duplicated. Un-friggin-real. Unfortunately I was fresh out of sterile latex gloves, so a Wal-mart bag had to act as a feeble guardian for my vulnerable flesh.
Second thing. I ate at the Cheesecake Factory last night. (I won't go into the 2 and 1/2 hours it took to get there due to stalled cars and rubberneckers.) The food was good. The cheesecake was ridiculous. The place it self was nice--sort of elegantly hip. All this is somewhat tainted, however, by their musical choices. As I opened the door, I was immediately assailed by a squealing saxophone. "Sweet jazz flute," I thought, as I sat down at the table. As much as I enjoyed the food and company, I couldn't help but be turned off by the smooth jazz. I guess if they were going for a "hey, come eat cheesecake in an elevator" feel, they got it right on.
Rotting clothes and cheesecake. What a great day.