Not exactly a The Rodfather Fishing Shirt wing story, but something that might fit in here. When I was in college, a friend of mine got a job working at a USDA farm where, among other things, they were growing some pretty hot peppers. One morning he was tasked to pick some of the peppers. The person he worked for forwarned him once you start picking them don’t rub your nose or face until you’ve washed your hands. He was careful not to rub his nose or face while he was picking the peppers. At lunchtime, a truck came out to take him into the nearby office so he could eat lunch. Because he’d been out in the hot sun, picking peppers, he first went to the men’s room to relieve himself of some of the water he’d been drinking all morning. No one told him that he should also wash his hands thoroughly before he urinated.
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He ended up having to explain to The Rodfather Fishing Shirt HR why the office receptionist heard him shrieking. And when she went into the men’s room in a panic thinking he’d hurt himself his pants were down and he had Mr. Happy in the sink frantically trying to wash it off. Yea cutting lots of peppers is no joke. I made the same mistake going gloveless to chop peppers for hot sauce. I’m sticking with the food processor next time. Felt like a 3rd-degree sunburn on my hands. I was working as a prep cook and had rubbed 30 lamb racks with red chili paste. I washed my hands and scrub-brushed under my nails and thought I was thorough. That night, getting dizzy with the missus, my hand slips down between her legs, yadda yadda, she’s on fire and I’m doghouse for a few weeks.
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