I met Hick up front at the casino at 3:30, ready to leave. He was sitting at a slot, looking at his phone. Sometimes he plays while he's waiting. Since he wasn't, I figured he was out of money.
As he was backing out of the parking space, Hick put his right hand up to his mouth. Fished around on the side of his gums.
"What are you doing? You've just come from touching buttons on SLOT MACHINES! How can you put your fingers in your mouth??? Here. Want some GermX? Oh, my gosh! I can't believe you! Why don't you just go back and lick every button on every slot you played?"
"Don't be so dramatic. It's fine."
Here's the thing. I am extra-careful about my casino hygiene. I don't touch my face until after I've washed my hands. I don't eat lunch until I wash my hands. I don't grab my cup of FREE soda by the rim. I carry GermX in my gambling purse.
Of course while we waited 15 minutes in line for lunch, the old lady behind me sounded like she was coughing up a lobe of lung onto my shoulder. If I'd had one of those Michael Jackson masks, I'd have strapped it over her germ-spreading mouth!
You know who woke up the next day with stuffed sinuses and an ear/throat ache, right? Not Mr. Germ-Tasting Hick. It was ME!
At supper time, I caught Hick in a sneeze series. At least five before I spoke.
"AHA! It was YOU! You picked up something at the casino, and gave it to me overnight!"
"Maybe so, but not about this! It's my right ear! The one exposed to your breather spray all night."
"Ha ha. You always try to blame it on ME!"
I think the evidence speaks for itself.