Friday is generally pizza day for me, or sometimes ham, cheese and cappicola day if I'm not in the mood for pizza. So I'm standing in line at a little pizza joint near the Oulsham Place of Employment when the unthinkable happened.
Just so you know, I try to be germ-phobic and I avoid dirt near my food almost all the time. To the point that I am still functional in the real world, I am successful.
A landscaper dude left the back of the restaurant after eating his lunch without first washing his super-dirty landscaper hands. These puppies were grimy. But hey, that's his problem sez I.
Until the owner of the pizza joint spotted our landscaper - who was obviously an old friend or a very good customer - and reached out and shook the landscaper's really filthy hand. "Hey how you doin?" "No, how you doin?"
Well frankly at this point I wasn't doing too well and I became quite distracted at the spectacle. The pizza owner guy finished shaking the landscaper's horribly unclean hand and then...turned to me...and...asked me...what I wanted to order.
I stood there, frozen, staring at the unclean hand of the landscaper as he grabbed a toothpick and left the building. I could not speak. I could not think. I was in mental lockdown.
"Sir, what can I get you," the impatient pizza owner dude repeated.
"Ummm, I really can't eat here," was all I could think to say. Without pausing I walked to the door and left. I went next door to the Chinese place and ordered Chicken in Garlic sauce. Chinese is usually Thursday, so now I will be behind a day until next week.
I'm not saying this actually happened at the place with the name of Juliet's boyfriend at the corner of Main Street and School Road in Marlboro, New Jersey, yesterday at 1:35 PM. But I'm not saying it happened somewhere else either.
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