wine by the color

Thursday, May 03, 2007

I love walking around in bare feet. There’s just something about the bottom of your feet hitting certain surfaces – grass, sand – that feels terrific.

That list of places, however, would not include the floor of an airplane bathroom. I can think of few filthier places. Given the tight quarters and the jostling around due to turbulence, etc., it’s not unusual to walk into the bathroom to find a wet floor. It’s to be expected, given the male proclivity toward a standing pee. I’m not judging. It’s a simple fact.

It’s so common that if I’m wearing longer pants that reach the floor, as the kids are doing these days, I’ll roll them up a bit before entering a plane’s restroom so as to not leave with soggy trousers. I’m no neat freak, but I’m extremely careful when I'm in a plane’s bathroom. Germs lurk everywhere. Particularly on the floor.

And this is why, as I exited the toilet last night on my flight from IAH to EWR, I witnessed something that made me throw up in my mouth a little. The man waiting for the bathroom was not wearing his shoes. Or his socks. That’s right. This man felt the bathroom, with its soiled floor, was a completely acceptable place to bring his bare feet.

I tried to hide my horrified expression, but apparently didn’t do a very good job. One of the flight attendants caught my sickened look and said to me after the man entered the restroom, “That is beyond disgusting.”

She'll get no argument from me.


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