Do not feel sorry for this gentleman. He was not suffering from deep-vein thrombosis. We were not into the 19th hour of a long-haul flight to Australia. Actually, we had not even taken off from LaGuardia enroute to Toronto when Mr. Class chose to put his feet up on the wall of the aircraft. I say, "Why stop there? Why not just relieve yourself in the seat pocket in front of you?"
Some men can't seem to use a urinal without making a mess on the floor. Then the next person steps in it if he's not paying attention. Nice to know that gets tracked onto walls, armrests, coffee tables, etc. by guys like this.
Three verifiable things about me. One. I am an only child. The concept of sharing, therefore, is foreign to me. Two. I am a Virgo. The sign regarded as a perfectionist. Three. My mother raised me to be meticulously clean; compulsively tidy. According to my mother, "You have taken this clean thing way too far." I disagree. Apologies to my mother.
Nature or nurture? Who knows? Who cares? I have not been diagnosed with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Nor would I label myself a Cleanaholic. Or a Germaphobe. My world though, is definitely a unique place. One where doors open magically. Hotel mattresses are pristine. And estheticians never double dip.
I live in this world without a bubble or a honeycomb mask. About 15 years ago I got tired of catching the flu du jour and became ever more so hygienically vigilant -- perhaps obsessively so.
Some men can't seem to use a urinal without making a mess on the floor. Then the next person steps in it if he's not paying attention. Nice to know that gets tracked onto walls, armrests, coffee tables, etc. by guys like this.
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