My husband and I were having a lovely dinner and a movie date night. That was until about 3/4 through the movie. I had my small clutch style purse, sweatshirt, and my husband's baseball cap on my lap. All of a sudden, my purse fell onto the theater floor. I was a little grossed out, but I figured I would just pick it up and force myself to use it normally. My husband reached down, grabbed my purse, and handed it back to me. That's when I felt it - some sort of wetness on my purse. Oh, how I thought I would die! I noticed that my husband rubbed his hands together quickly, as if to dry off something wet on them. I immediately wanted to go wash my hands. I asked him if he should go wash his hands too. He told me that there was no reason for him to wash his hands. He also told me that I should just wipe my purse off with a napkin and go on like nothing happened. Uh huh. Right. I've made tremendous progress in fighting my OCD, but this was really pushing it. No way I was going to let this one go.
I spent the rest of the movie holding my purse (and now contaminated sweatshirt) on my lap in such a way that I would not get even more dirty and spread the filth. When the movie finished, I looked down at the floor, and noticed what appeared to be spilled soda, and my husband's baseball hat laying right on it. Ughhhh. I picked up the hat and carried all my gross items back to the car. Thankfully, on the way out of the theater, my husband did agree to stop in the restroom and wash his hands. When we got to the car, he opened up the car door for me (because there was no way I was going to touch the handle), and then we drove home. Of course, the hat and the sweatshirt went straight into the washing machine, as well as everything I was wearing. My hands also got a good scrubbing. I'm still trying to decide whether I should throw my little purse out or not.
I was not very successful battling OCD last night. I did notice one interesting thing, however. While watching the movie, I was really debating whether I should go wash my hands or not, because I didn't want to miss any parts of the film. In the past, if something gross had happened, I would have been so freaked out that I wouldn't even have noticed that there was a movie still playing. Hmmmm . . . I guess you could still call that progress.