A few months ago I was at the movies preparing to hand over R100 for some popcorn and Crème Soda ( usually my green ambulance choice of beverage) when I saw this girl drop a handful of popcorn onto the floor. The black floor. She dropped her handful of popcorn onto the black, carpeted abyss of diseases and delights masquerading as a floor. The same floor that receives ample face time with soles of shoes that are most likely not strangers to city streets and public bathroom tiles.
So when she bent over, picked up the contaminated popcorn, and tossed it back into her mouth while gleefully justifying her decision to her friends by saying, “5 second rule!” and was met with knowing nods, it became clear to me that I could never trust anyone with any issues regarding basic health and sanitation ever again.
Although this particular 5 second rule doesn’t apply to me (My policy is: If your lunch hits the floor, you get the green light to have an extra cookie with dinner to make up for it. You do not shrug and assume carpet fuzz and traces of H1N1 were all, “Wait, it hasn’t been 5 seconds yet! Don’t touch that sandwich!”), there are plenty of other things that can be decided in 5 seconds:
Within 5 seconds of flipping the channel to a football game, I know that hmm… yup, I still hate sports.
Within 5 seconds of standing in line at the grocery store, I know how Heidi Montag feels about her plastic surgery, Mel Gibson’s therapist really has his hands full, and that celebrities tend to leave the “and moderate cocaine use” bit off the end of their response to the question, “How do you stay so slim?”
Within 5 seconds of a new song starting, I know whether or not the person who recommended it to me should be unfollowed, de----friended, and sent into social media exile.
Within 5 seconds of looking in the mirror in the morning, I know if my hair and I are going to have a problem.
Within 5 seconds of looking at a garment, I know how it (better) look on me and where I will be wearing it.
Within 5 seconds of boarding a plane, I feel like I know I’m going to die. Sometimes I’m wrong.
There is a myth I’d like to dispel, however. I don’t know how it got started, but rumor has it that women know within 5 seconds of meeting a man whether or not they would sleep with them, and I just want to set the record straight: This is totally untrue and, frankly, insulting, because we usually don’t find out approximately how much you make in a year, which celebrities are members at your country club, whether or not there are founding fathers in your family tree, and where all of your summer homes are located until we’ve been talking for at least five minutes!
So rest assured — you get about 300 seconds