I’ve had a shitload of teachers in my life. My parents. My brother. Grandparents, uncle, wife, kids, teachers. On and on and on. So, sometimes, I’m not sure which life lessons come from who. I enjoy beginning sentences with, “Like my dad once told me …” but I usually end them comically, along the lines of, ” … don’t sleep with a hooker if she’s also a crack addict.”
I digress. My all-time favorite life lesson (and one I try and drill in the skulls of my kids) is, “Don’t make someone’s life harder.” Or, simultaneously, “Make someone’s life easier.” Which is why I try and pick up trash, even if it’s not mine. Which is why I wipe down tables and swwp away crumbs and blah, blah, blah. For the record, I have TONS of flaws (ask my family members: They’ll tell you), but I really do try and help folks out.
Which leads to my latest bathroom-related blog post.
A few moments ago, here at the Swirl Coffee and Tea shop, I took a piss, looked at the bottom of the toilet seat and saw the above photo—a long, brown piece of hair somehow wedged to the porcelain. I see these things, and often think, “I should do something about that.” I’d credit it to OCD, only I’m not even remotely OCD. I just don’t enjoy the idea of some employee being forced to yank our toilet hair, just because he/she makes $11 per hour (or whatever it is) to be employed.
Hence, I took a moment to debate. Leave. Yank. Leave. Yank. Leave. Yank. Leave …
I yanked.
Admittedly, I did so with a napkin, so I touched nothing. Still, it was pretty gross, and far from enjoyable.
Now, I’m at peace. And the hair’s gone.
