Let me tell you a little story about some Skittlebrau. Do you know what Skittlebrau is? Please click the image below to watch an excellent seventeen-second video.
So, one night a bunch of us were hanging out on Becky’s back porch after floating in the pool, drinking beers and enjoying a summer night. I had some random domestic light beer in cans and a bag of Skittles and a moment of genius. “I shall make Skittlebrau!” I ceremoniously annouced. My friends were bemused at best, but their lack of enthusiasm didn’t faze me. As I began carefully plunking the Skittles one by one into the mouth of my beer can, I started tittering with laughter and repeating the word “Skittlebrau” in my best Homer Simpson voice, which turned into giggles, which eventually dissolved to near-cry laughing, and I dropped the last little handful of Skittles on the concrete floor of the porch.
“Oh no, too bad,” said someone. Was it too bad, friends? Was it too bad, I ask you, that the precious Skittles fell to the concrete floor? No. No it was not. I just picked them up and continued putting them into my beer. For one thing, this was a critical Skittlebrau experiment and I would not be stopped. For another thing, I simply do not care about germs. I do not.
This horrified one friend in particular (imagine a shocked and disgusted “Nooooooo” echoing through the night), but really I could not have cared less that the candy might have come in contact with some intangible floor bacteria. I don’t have a “five-second rule” or any other such belief that allows me not to care; rather I just don’t find everyday environmental bacteria to be a deterrent to living life to the fullest. I think we can all agree that missing an opportunity to make and drink Skittlebrau would really put a damper on living life to the fullest. Right? Right.
You will all be sorry to hear, then, that the Skittlebrau experiment was mostly a failure. I got some good laughs out of it, but the resulting product tasted pretty disgusting. The Skittles made the beer get flat; it tasted too sweet; and after the beer had been drunk, the Skittle remnants in the bottom of the can were too slimy to touch. But none of that matters. I tell you this story as my way of confessing to you that, in the Toothbrush Debate below, I am The Sinker. The Sinker is I! We are one and the same! Surprised?
The vast majority of you all are Team Cup, which I suppose is understandable. It’s a pretty reasonable point of view. However, I have never even had a toothbrush cup in my bathroom until recently. I have always been a Sinker. The Cupper in my life is the first person to ever suggest to me that the bathroom sink might be germy in the first place. The sink is where I wash my hands, therefore, to me, it is a clean place. Even if it is actually swarming with bacteria, I guess I still don’t really mind.
The things that tend to gross me out in life are mostly disgusting textures — I hate anything slimy, greasy, sticky, chalky, crummy, scummy, and so on. I don’t like touching food when I’m eating or using a chalkboard or holding a newspaper. I don’t like popcorn mainly because of the kernel skins that get in my gums but also because of the squeaky texture it makes when you chew it, which gives me the shivers. I have my own neuroses, for sure. For whatever reason, though, germs aren’t one of them.
For some reason, though, I find this kind of topic incredibly amusing, even sometimes fascinating — the whole differing approaches to seemingly mundane domestic tasks. I’ve been living on my own since I graduated from college in 2000. During the past 12+ years, I have certainly developed my own set of weird domestic quirks. I forget to close the bathroom door when I’m in there. I always make more coffee than I want and save half the pot for iced coffee the following day. I let Egon “help” me clean out my breakfast oatmeal bowl and often forget about it and leave the bowl sitting on the floor by the coffee table all day. I hang around in my underwear all morning (and afternoon) if I’m home alone on a weekend day. You know how it goes. (Do you?) Years of living solo can turn you into a real weirdo. I just never imagined that setting my toothbrush on the edge of the sink would be considered a strange domestic quirk by anyone else.
So anyway, now that I know most of y’all are Cup People (and you probably think I am gross!), please do me a favor and confess your own weird domestic quirks in the comments below. It will make me feel much better 🙂