I'm talking about the art of deciding when to hover over a toilet bowl, and when to just take a leap of faith and plunk your ass on down.
Now, everyone has a different level of germ tolerance, which is directly linked to hovercraft. On a scale of 1-10, I'm maybe a 3, with 1 being "would eat a slice of pizza that fell face down on the floor of the international departures lounge at Newark Airport" (see also: my mother) and 10 being "washes a banana before peeling and eating it" (see also: my mother-in-law).
So needless to say, I don't ALWAYS hover. Indeed, the number of toilets on which I'm willing to plunk my ass down without a second thought is substantial. But there are some toilets that are categorically hover-only; such as outhouses, of which I'd guess there are more per capita in Alaska than basically anywhere else in America.
Because you never know what you're getting into when you put your ass onto one of those, assuming there's a seat.
Either way, you could very well be entering some serious unknown territory. I'm a bit of a risk-taker, so I'm willing to sit on pretty much any public toilet that I'm confident gets regularly cleaned and has no visible sketch on it.
Whatever is happening at a microbial level, well, I'm sure it's not pretty. But I'm also not walking around with a microscope, and what you can't see can't hurt you. And even if it can, that's what your immune system is for.
Hovercraft. Seriously, it's an art.