Rule #3: Don't get caught with your pants down.

Rule #3: Beware of Bathrooms



Nobody likes dropping a deuce in a strange place. You never know who will stink up the stall next to you. Did the last person to mount this porcelain throne have good aim? Will there be enough TP? Does the door lock? Will there be soap? Will the dude in the stall next to you start a conversation? So many things can go wrong, if we could only get a few minutes to peruse the sports section and take care of business. The last thing you need is a zombie pulling on the latch. It's probably the predatory instinct of zach that enables him to target your weaknesses like a heat seeking missile.
You know the feeling...you've got an ingrown toenail and every a-hole on the train is un-naturally drawn to step on your foot. Zach likes to cause pain. As a matter of fact, he has a pain-magnet. He likes to hit you when your at your lowest, and then he wants to dine on your flesh. Like Columbus says, "When you are your most vulnerable, it's like they can just smell it."

There's a breed of human like that, too. For some people, it's the ex-wife. For others, it's an angry, bitter person that once crossed your path, so miserable in their own life that they want to infect you with their ugly. It could be your disgruntled boss. Or your crazy neighbor. They don't usually have signs of infection, so good luck avoiding them. Their rotting flesh is covered up by cheap Walmart make-up. They wear a suit to hide the bite marks and bruising. Or they are just so charming that you miss the glazed over eyes and drool.
Some wear their infection like a badge of honor: "I am bitter, and miserable and I don't care who knows!". Others are in denial, trying helplessly to blame the rest of the world for their ugly. Either way, they still have the same goal: PAIN.
What's the worst part? They sense when you are vulnerable, and they strike. They know where to pour the salt. They have a one in ten chance, but they never miss the ingrown toenail. The infected want to get their grubby, rotting fingers in the wound and pull open your chest to get at our heart, the sweetest and most painful part. And once they have bitten us with their ugly, we have to be careful not to let it grow inside us. They "live" for that.
The chance to infect another human with their bitter ugly so they don't feel so alone and miserable. IT kidna makes their whole existence even more pitiful. I can't imagine living just to cause senseless pain, it must be because they are mindless and instinct driven.

Sometimes, the very cautious people are safe. They lock the door. They bring clorox wipes and pack their own Charmin singles. Or they just hold it. (Ew.) But do they ever really feel comfortable? Probably not. Are the uber-cautious ones ever really happy? There are no epic-adventures in "careful land". Fun and smashing and driving with the top down...not so prevelant in "cafeful town". Your best plan is to find someone you trust. Someone that you know isn't infected with the bitterness and ugly of a disgruntled life. Find someone beautiful and wonderful and full of hope that can guard the door for you, because chances are the door doesn't latch. The tricky part is letting your guard down to find the beautiful people without letting the uglies bite at you.

 I'm here to tell you that it's possible. And to remind you to return the key to the gas station attendant.