The other day, a friend of mine handed me a delicate-looking ring.
"Look what I found," she said.
"That's nice," I said. "Where'd you find it?"
"I found it in the bathroom at the mall. No one picked it up all day, so I took it."
"It doesn't look very expensive. They were probably not that worried about it."
"Do you want it?" she asked. "You can keep it."
"Really? Thanks!" I slid the ring onto my finger and admired how nice the thin band looked.
I have been wearing the ring for about four days now, but it was only about five minutes ago that I noticed the band was split. Toe rings are often split so that they have a bit of give when you are walking.
You know what this means, don't you? I have been wearing some unknown person's TOE RING that they left in a PUBLIC WASHROOM at the mall ON MY FINGER, a finger on a hand that I EAT with.
I am going to go inspect myself for signs of the Coxsackie virus now, gargle some bleach, and say ew about eleventy billion times.