#BumPiss

***Disclaimer.  This is not a rant to complain about homeless people.  I’m broken hearted for many of them.  I’m just being a realist here.  I like puppies too…that doesn’t mean I want to roll around in their bodily waste.***

This is a PSA brought to you by you third favorite cam whore. Everything. I repeat EVERYTHING in New York is covered in some sort of bum piss. This is a revelation I made and it has ruined/changed my life. This isn't about bums pissing on everything. This is about New Yorkers walking through everything. If you manage to avoid it by some miracle your fate probably holds vomit in your path. Unavoidable. Especially if you're anywhere near the meatpacking district thurs-sunday nights/early morning. Keep your fuckin eyes peeled cause these drunks don't give a fuuuuuck. 

Let's go with a simple scenario. You're in the East Village and have to run up to Old Navy in Herald square because they have your favorite little dresses on sale. It's Sunday morning around 10am. (Allow me to make one thing clear...although I LOVE those dresses and wear them almost daily when I'm not working...I wouldn't never be up at ten am to buy them. I just wanted to give a relatively respectable scenario that doesn't involve me drinking late night or my true to form scenario of getting done work late and going home.)  The East Village is crawling with drunk NYU students at night on the weekends. Drunk students means vomit anywhere. Corners-vomit.  Street gutters -vomit. Middle of the sidewalks-vomit. Subway stations and sometimes on a really lucky night, subway cars - vomit. Good luck avoiding that. So Sunday mornings are filled with the remnants of that debacle. Once you successfully frogger your way to the Astor Place subway station and enter a train on the yellow line, a whole new mess of germs awaits.  You could take a seat when you enter the car, however, to me pouring bleach into your eyes is just as appealing to me as sitting on a wretched subway bench.  Think about it.  Where do the bums sleep at night when it’s cold?  In the subway.  If you’ve ever been in a subway car that’s empty except for a bum, then you know why it was empty.  The smell’s from some of these people are indescribable.  Then there they are in their filth laying on these seats.  The same seats you’re going to sit on and then potentially sit on your couch or bed?  Noooooo thanks!  Stand in that bitch.  Save your clothes from a premature visit to the hamper.  Now you’re faced with holding those handrails. Just like any public restroom handle…these things are filthy!  Your best bet is to subway surf, a skill that you perfect the more time you spend in the city.  If you’re just here for a visit, grab the hand rails with one hand and your hand sanitizer with the other. After you finish shopping, and complete all of the above steps in reverse, you arrive home safely.  

Believe me, if I could afford a decontamination airlock pressure vestibule thingy for my front door, I'd have it.  Instead, I overthink everything I do upon my arrival to my apartment.  My roommate and I live in what's called a "railroad apartment".  This means I can enter the apartment in through the common area and walk through her room to get to mine, or I can enter my room directly through a door from the main stairwell.  90% of the time I enter my room directly.  The idea of this is like nails on a chalkboard for me.  I begin the process of taking off my shoes before I even have my key in the door.  Any bags I've carried around with me get hung on doorknobs because who knows what's touched them.  I also have a "no pants in my bed" rule.  Unlike men, this isn't a ploy to get laid during sleepovers.  This is my way to keep bum piss out of my bed.  I shower and get into that bed and I don't think it's too much to ask that it be covered in only my germs.  Unless I am or would bang you...then I'll allow your germs too. I might even let you share my food in that case.  I wash my floors in my room twice a week and once a week in the whole apartment.  Honestly it's probably all the years I've spent working in the restaurant business have created some of the habits more so than mild OCD.  I really don't think it's much to ask to not walk around the apartment with bum piss covered shoes when you live in NYC.

Long story short...If you live in New York City and wear your shoes around your house...you're fucking disgusting.

Stay tuned for the next entry about the other kind of bum piss... 💩

via GIPHY