“Hello?”

“Hey, man.”

“Hey, buddy. What’s up?”

“Nothing. So, listen to this?”

“Shoot.”

“At the office, we have a cleaning crew that comes in at night. It’s typically these two older Asian ladies and a younger Asian guy. I don’t know if he’s the son of one of them but that’s always been my assumption.”

“Quite perceptive of you.”

“Thanks. Anyway, if you’re there late, they will typically knock on your door, walk in, and take your trash can. Then they empty it, walk back into your office, and return it to the floor.”

“Great story.”

“Sorry. So, the two ladies follow that routine. The guy, however, who has an American accent, is less apologetic about it.”

“Should he be apologetic about emptying your trash?”

“I guess not, but the ladies always seem to be. They always say, ‘Excuse me’ and act as though they are sorry to interrupt you.”

“And you’ve come to appreciate this level of subservience?”

“Uh, well, yes. I guess I have now that you mention it. Although I like to think of it as a superior level of service.”

“Whatever works. Is this what you called about?”

“No, it’s not. I called about something that occurred the other night. So, on this particular night, the guy came by my office. The door was open but he did a little knock to let me know he was there. As he moved in to grab the trash, I was taking the last bite of an apple. I turned to throw the core into the trash can, but he’d already picked it up. Rather than hold the trash can to where I could throw in the core, he held out his hand.”

“Like, he told you to stop?”

“No. He held out his hand palm up. It took me a second to realize he wanted me to just hand him the apple core.”

“Into his open hand?”

“Yes. And, it wasn’t like a thumb-middle finger apple hold transfer you’d do with any other rational human being. This was just a ‘place that chewed up piece of fruit in my open palm’ exchange.”

“That’s gross. Like, it takes a second to sink in, but that’s fucking disgusting.”

“Exactly. Do you now see my perplexity?”

“Yes, I do. I mean, that’s like handing someone your gum, or a used Kleenex.”

“I know. It’s disturbing. It made me question just how filthy his hands already were. I mean, if you’ve been cleaning toilets and emptying trash all night, maybe it doesn’t register that an apple core is kind of gross. It certainly didn’t appear to register with this guy.”

“Seriously. I wonder what he considers gross at this point? Like, has he picked up so much shitty toilet paper that he doesn’t flinch at something like food?”

“Or, has he developed some level of filth calluses on his hands? Sort of like a farm worker who can pick up briers or an Indian that can walk through the woods without shoes?”

“What? Have you been hanging out with any farm hands or Indians lately? Where did that come from?”

“No, but you get my point? Like, has he either mentally or physically developed a barrier of grime on his hands to the point that he will touch anything?”

“I wonder if he’d pick up roadkill without gloves?”

“Maybe that’s his thing. His superpower is his unflinching ability and willingness to touch and handle disgusting items.”

“Maybe. Maybe he was doing it to impress you? Maybe he does stuff like that every night all around town hoping for someone to notice his talent. Kind of like a Good Will Hunting of sorts only instead of completing complex math problems, he handles disgusting garbage?”

“That has to be it. I can’t think of any other explanation.”

“He likes them apples”.

“I see what you did there. That’s very clever.”

“Thank you. Let me know how this story develops.”

“Don’t worry. I will.”