Hover-peers, you are officially on notice.
You know who you are. Women whose precious butts are far too precious to actually come into contact with a public toilet seat. So instead, you hover over said toilet seat, inevitably leaving drops of pee on the seat. The seat which was just fine for sitting until YOU PEED ON IT.
Yes, I have strong feelings about this.
But it's not just me. I first discovered that I was not alone when I read this important piece by a Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist. Then Emily and I discovered our mutual outrage over this topic. Which led to an email in which she said this:
"I went into the bathroom at work and saw that someone had put paper over the seat to sit down and then apparently flushed their business but not the toilet paper they sat on to protect them from the horrible germy seat. I knew you wouldn't approve. Why would someone who is clearly afraid of other people's butt germs leave toilet paper that their own butt sat on for someone else to touch? I am angered by this. I think we should start an official campaign against squatters and sprinklers and toilet paper seat cover users. I hate them all."
Well said, Emily. I could not agree more.
This toilet-paper-leaving-behind person reminded me of yet another hygiene menace in our midst. You know those people who use a paper towel to open the bathroom door, fearing that you, Person In Front of Them, have not washed your hands before exiting? Sure, fine, whatever. Except a woman in my workplace does this, then throws the now nasty-looking crumpled paper towel toward the trash can outside the bathroom and often misses. And then I have to use yet another paper towel to pick up this paper towel, lest this paper towel of fastidiousness have also been used to, say, wipe the snotty snottiness from her snotty too-good-for-door-handles-but-not-for-littering nose.
In conclusion, you people with your need to keep your butts and hands free of germs are creating a squalid world for the rest of us. Stop immediately. Or I will be forced to personally come to your office and sneeze on your phone and/or keyboard, which Science proves is actually more germ-ridden than the toilet seat. Well, the toilet seat before you defiled it, that is.
Consider the campaign begun.
[Note: According to the creepy make-up man on Ten Years Younger, the toilet seat covers offered in public restrooms are made of the same material as those little oil-blotting sheets for your face, which is a use that, as I am afflicted with combination skin, I can totally get behind. No pun intended.]