Why do they lock gas station bathrooms? Are they afraid someone will clean them?” Anonymous
Growing up in the era of “Walk It Off” parenting, I was never
allowed to get too in touch with my hypochondria. Occasionally, I might
get my hands on a National Geographic magazine that would feature
Amazon explorers, tribes that had never been touched by the outside
world or an expedition into the heart of darkest Africa. To properly
frame the perilous nature of uncharted corners of the world, the
articles would relate the hazards associated with indigenous people,
nasty flora, unpredictable fauna and myriad microscopic predators that
could all kill a man – often in bizarre and horrific ways.
I did not just want to know about the 1000 ways in which I could die
– – I wanted to witness them. The fact that most of these diseases,
parasites and insidious bacteria were transmitted through unclean
drinking water, monkey bites, and unnatural encounters in dark,
forbidden places did not matter to me. I was certain these germs were
lingering everywhere.

