There are two types of people. Those who wash and those who walk. I should probably explain. Imagine yourself sat in a men’s toilet cubicle, which might be unpleasant if you’re female. Anyway, you are peacefully going about your business when you hear somebody enter and go either to the stand ups or to the traps.
They go about their business, selecting option one or two as required. And you then hear the toilet flush, and the door open. Convention dictates that the next port of call is the wash basin, and a rendezvous with some soap and a hot air dryer. Only no, because this particular person turns and exits, the main doors opened and closed behind them. Now its time for the forensics team to set off in pursuit, and you can be sure that a broad range of wonders will smear every surface our walker decides to caress. That means every door handle, every desk, every keyboard and mouse. Every contact leaves a trace, and he’s left a lovely track to follow. For heavens sake if he offers you his hand don’t take it. You might just as well shake him by the knob.
Come on mate, what are you thinking? Just how long does it take to wander over to a basin and clean up? What’s the deal with heading off, hands curdling with a combination of urine and possibly faecal matter? I don’t want to interact with your bodily contents if it’s all the same to you. I’d rather you just observed a bit of basic etiquette and had a little consideration for others. Now I’m aware that chimps are apt to fling poo at each other, and I know we’re only a chromosome or two distant from our cool primate cousins. All the same, there are certain modes of behaviour I don’t aspire to and I’d rather you didn’t either. In your own home, if you want to wipe for backside in Arab fashion then you crack on. Your house, your rules. But . . . or is that butt?? Do not spread your leftovers around for other cleaner folk to pick up. I don’t want your germs, your sperm, or the contents of your bowels. Wash up and wake up dude.