Can we talk about dishes for a minute?

Here are a couple of interesting observations about the urban jungle species S. S has a few dishes that he brought with him when he moved in. A plate, a bowl, some silverware, a cup or two as well. Now, the apartment has a dishwasher. It’s fully functioning, and does a pretty good job. Yet we observe that the species S refuses to use it. There is also ample antibacterial Palmolive, and a brush on the sink, which I run through the dishwasher regularly to sanitize. The species S refuses to use these as well. I think it’s his fear of clean rearing its ugly (smelly?) head again. S’s method of cleaning dishes is as follows.

Step 1: Turn on water (Go S!)
Step 2: Hold dish under water. (He’s doing so well so far!)
Step 3: Raise right hand. (Uh oh, where is he going with this?)
Step 4: Make motion with right hand half way between a wave and a one handed clap. (I’m just confused at this point.)
Step 5: Lower right hand onto dish in sink, while continuing to make weird motion with hand. (It’s really kinda funny to watch. Like an upside down come hither motion)
Step 6: Scratch at dish with hand motion.
Step 7: Hold dish up close to face and examine.
Step 8: If necessary, use two fingers to pick at stuck on food.
Step 9: Re-examine closely, lifting glasses to forehead if necessary.
Step 9: Place dish in dish drainer.

Now, a few things really bother me about this.

1.EWWWWW!!!!! Just, EWWW!
2. Seriously, no soap? Seriously? Seriously?
3. What the hell is wrong with the brush?

I asked him about the brush. His response? Oh, that’s probably dirtier than my hand. Three things here, as I mentioned, I run the brush through the dishwasher, which sanitizes it. The Palmolive is antibacterial. And didn't I mention the no soap? That means no soap on his hand either. Based on smell, the brush is definitely cleaner.

All of this leads to a few funny (sad) occurences. The first is that whenever I see my silverware, glasses, bowls, etc. in the drainer, I come along and take them from there and put them in the dishwasher so they get actually washed. This also means that whenever I go to use a "clean" pot, I have to wash it ahead of time (including with soap).

Megan was getting ready to make something a few weeks ago, and looked at the pots on the stove (where the species S tends to put them after he washes them) and asked me if they were clean. I said "I think so" (Meaning, not if we're going to use it), but apparently she wasn't in on the meaning. She picked one of them up, and looked at it closely, and whirled on me. The conversation that followed sounded a bit like Grey's Anatomy.

Her: You call this clean? Seriously? Seriously?
Me: I don't know.
Her: Look at it! Seriously?
Me: What? Ewww ...
Her: Seriously! It has shmutz all over it!
Me: (Points towards living room, where S is) Hey, I'm not the one who used it or "washed" it.

She then went in the living room and had a similar conversation with him, except that every time she said "Seriously?" to him, he responded with "Yes, it's clean. Clean enough, right?" Trust me. It wasn't. Not even close.

So S decided that Meg is probably a little nuts, and maybe a little too stressed. I think Megan realized for the first time just how gross S really is, and it wasn't just me complaining. (It took her a few times to notice the smell too. You have to be downwind.) Plush, she did some hyper kitchen cleaning after that. All in all, it was probably a pretty good day for me. Until later, when I found my silverware, glass and bowl in the drainer, and had another skincrawl moment.