Six months ago one of my blogging buddies, Carrie Rubin, wrote a post about gross things she’s found in her food.  But after commenting with a list of the various disgusting things I’ve discovered on my plate, it occurred to me that perhaps I’d shared too much.

Which got me thinking about other instances of inappropriate sharing I’ve witnessed over the years.  I’m not talking about inappropriate verbal sharing; I’m talking about sharing physical objects that really, really should be one-person items.

I know little kids tend to be cavalier about swapping bacteria, but I generally prefer to think adults know better.

Not so.

I was sitting at an ice cream shop one day when I spotted a prosperous-looking middle-aged lady sitting in her prosperous-looking car with her small yappy terrier.  Okay, nothing surprising in that scene.

Until she licked her ice cream cone, held it out for the dog to lick, took a few more licks herself, shared it with the dog again… you get the picture.

Lady!  Seriously?!?  Do you know where that dog’s tongue has been?  No?

Let me tell you:

(To those with weak stomachs:  You’ll want to skip this paragraph.)  First he licked his balls.  Then he found some dead, partially-decomposed animal and nibbled that.  Then a while later, he found the shit from some other dog who’d also nibbled said partially-decomposed animal, and he ate that dog’s shit.  Now you’re licking the same ice cream cone.

‘Scuse me while I hurl.

Some time later, I was staggered all over again by an incident at my gym.

I pay extra to use the adults-only change room, since large groups of children fill me with an intense need to run screaming (and not in the “running for fitness” sense). One of the perks of the membership is being allowed to leave your swimsuit hanging to dry in the change room.  So I went for a swim and then left my swimsuit on its peg.

When I went back a couple of days later, somebody had stolen it.  I can’t imagine why, ’cause if you can afford to pay extra for the adult change room, you can probably afford a new swimsuit.

But I ask you:  Would you wear a stranger’s swimsuit?  Even if you were totally broke?

I was flabbergasted.  Then grossed out.  Then annoyed.  I would’ve loved to post the following note:

To the person who stole my swimsuit, one word: 

CRABS!

But maybe that’s why the gym doesn’t allow its members to post notices on the bulletin board.  And besides, it would have been really embarrassing if I’d gotten caught.

Anybody else got stories of inappropriate sharing?

P.S. I wrote this six months ago, and last week I decided it would be today’s post.  A few days later another blogging buddy, Murr Brewster, posted The Brazilians Killed The Lice.  What are the chances that we’d both mention a tasteful topic like crabs in the same week?  Obviously great minds think alike.