When I mentioned to Harris that I usually end my workouts by spending 10 minutes in the health-club spa, he wrinkled up his nose and shuddered.

“How can you climb into that disgusting, bacteria-filled pool of steaming waste that other people have been bathing in? What is it about wallowing in other people’s unsanitary filth that you enjoy? Why not just roll around in a nice hot Dumpster and see what life-threatening disease you come down with in a few days? I would think you can get the same health benefits by sitting in a sewer.”

This was a little much. Especially coming from Harris, who may be the unhealthiest person I know. It takes him 10 minutes to wheeze from his front door to his car. He smokes, he drinks, he has adult-onset diabetes, he doesn’t exercise, he overeats high-fat, high-carb foods and spends most of his time parked in front of the television snacking on corn chips and drinking beer.

And he’s worried that I might catch something from the hot tub? That’s sweet. I’m much more likely to catch something from his sofa. Who knows what’s living in that? Ebola? The 1918 influenza virus? Polonium-210? His bathroom does not meet the high standards I’ve come to expect from non-chain convenience stores.