Jeremy's Weblog

I recently graduated from Harvard Law School. This is my weblog. It tries to be funny. E-mail me if you like it. For an index of what's lurking in the archives, sorted by category, click here.

Sunday, September 15, 2002

I went somewhere and got a sandwich for lunch. The woman behind the counter was wearing a pair of plastic gloves while she made the sandwich. She wraps the sandwich up. She comes over to the register to take my money. She takes my $10, gives me back my change. Still wearing the gloves. Isn't the point of the gloves so that what touches dirty stuff like money doesn't touch the food? Why bother wearing gloves if you're gonna get them dirty? Right? And doesn't it sound dirtier to make a sandwich wearing dirty gloves than with dirty hands? I mean, it's probablty the same either way, but something feels even less sanitary about dirty plastic gloves than dirty skin. I don't know. The sandwich was good, and I'm still alive, so I guess no big deal. But still...