I've always had a good relationship with our shower. Sure, sometimes she takes a little while to heat up the water, but I'm patient, and I'll go eat my cereal while she wakes up. That way, I get fed, and Shower can take all the time she needs to get my water nice and piping hot. Now, maybe she was having an off day, maybe Paul just spent too long in the shower (investigation pending), maybe I somehow offended her (does she not like the clean shower stuff I spray afterwards? wrong scent?), either way, this morning when I turned on the water for the shower, it was decidedly lukewarm. Did I panic? No, of course not. I quite patiently poured myself a bowl of cereal, and waited. And waited. Twenty minutes later, I'm definitely going to be late for work, and the water is now wavering between lukewarm and slightly chilly. I start to panic. I call Paul.
"Paul? I needthephonenumbertothecabthewaterisstillcoldnothappytakingacabtowork."
I don't know why, but I don't think he understood me the first time, so I repeated myself, got the phone number to the cab company, and started bargaining with the shower.
Okay, Shower, I said, how's five more minutes? You've got five whole minutes to get nice and hot, okay?
I perch on the edge of the toilet seat, hand under the chilly water. Five minutes pass. Nothing.
Okay, Shower, I'll wait five more minutes, I say.
Nothing.
At this point, it becomes glaringly clear that I am going to be forced to take a cold shower. All reason departs from me at this point, and I start a bitter diatribe directed specifically at the shower, and generally at my apartment, which has decided to conspire against me.
Oh, boy. I'm going to have to take a cold shower. I can't believe this. I hate the cold. I really, REALLY hate the cold! You've got to be kidding me, Shower. I - OH MY GOSH!!! THE HEAT ISN'T EVEN ON!!!! I'm supposed to take a cold shower in an apartment with no heat?? I HATE YOU, SHOWER!!!
I remove my robe. I am naked and freezing and pacing in my heatless bathroom, and I am about to hop into a cold shower.
Oh, boy. Oh, boy. Okay, I can do this. I can do this, IcandothisIcandothisIcandothis okay I'm going in-
OH GEEZ!!! OH GEEZ!!! SWEET MOTHER, THAT IS COLD!!! OH, SHOWER, REALLY? REALLY, DO YOU HATE ME THAT MUCH?
I am yelling at the top of my lungs. I would feel bad, but at the moment everyone else in my building is taking a nice hot shower, (see? reason is completely gone.) so I want them to hear me suffering.
I manage to lean back far enough while washing my hair to avoid getting completely soaked with the freezing cold death water, but then it's time to for the soap. I stand in the shower, wet hair plastered to my neck, shivering as I glare at the bar of soap. I swipe the bar of soap all over in record time, and am now presented with the problem of washing off. My first instinct as I face the freezing cold evil death water shooting out at me from the showerhead of pain is to cross my arms in front of my chestal area to somehow keep slightly warm. While this is completely ineffective, it does make me feel a little better.
I keep my upper arms plastered to my body, and use my hands to splash water in my general direction.
This isn't working.
I surrender to the freezing water.
OKAY FINE, I'M WASHING OFF!! ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?? AAAAHHHHRRRGHH!! THIS IS REALLY NOT COOL, SHOWER!! I THINK I AM HYPOTHERMIC!! OH MY GOSH, I'M TURNING BLUE!!! I AM REALLY UNHAPPY RIGHT NOW!!! OH, GEEEZ!!!
Okay, done.
I step out of the shower feeling a sense of accomplishment akin to what I'm sure new mothers and olympic champions often feel- no one has ever done this before. I dry off using three towels, bundle up in my robe, and although I am abismally late, I take a few minutes to sit on the couch and recover from my post traumatic stress disorder. I somehow manage to get ready in 30 minutes (see, Mom? I can get ready fast!), and in a cab. Miraculously, I arrive at work a little early.
Maybe I'll bring Shower one of those cute little scrubby poofs to hang from the spout. I feel a little bad for yelling at her so much.
9 comments:
I totally feel for you, even though, being much more naturally insulated than you, I am certain I will never experience the depth of your pain. I prescribe hot and chocolatey hot chocolate. And chocolate. In any form, really. The hot part is just a perk.
Welcome to every Sunday morning last year for us (we agreed that it was some lazy worker sleeping in who didn't flip the switch or something and directed our anger at him).
Kudos to you. That was brilliant. Stop what you're doing right now and take a bow.
I thought that happened to everyone all the time here! Apparently it's just us and Christina. It is very traumatic. I hate how the water heats the apartment so if the hot water is off, the heat in the apartment is also off, leaving nowhere to go but stand in front of the open oven to dry off (learned that one on the mission). I'm glad I can pass on the tip. Nice description by the way.
You used much nicer words then I ever would have to my shower. Don't feel bad, this to has happened to us a couple of times. I turned the hair dryer on me for about ten minutes after the shower. Next time, you march your skinny butt over here to use our shower.
Speaking as one who also cannot handle the cold showers, we all must remember that one only has to actually "shower," i.e. touch the water with one's whole body during the rinsing phase, which can take less than 5 seconds if you're good.
The soaping-up, etc. can all be done either standing outside the shower, or in it, without the water hitting you. This is easier with a luffa or wash-rag, but can be done with hands just as well.
Thank you, and good night.
In these kinds of situations, I usually just open a can of Axe and take a french bath. Hopefully, they will soon come up with a Feminine counterpart to Axe. It would be embarrassing if you had to beat back the swarming ladies with a stick on your way to work. --Jake
I love the way you turn the most traumatizing moments into very entertaining stories. I haven't had that problem with our shower in NYC. Although, our kitchen sink goes cold every once and a while but not quite the same- just makes rinsing the dishes for the dishwasher a bit less enjoyable.
I had no idea you could comment on these blogs. How exciting!
i'm with jake on this one. if my shower isn't blasting 100 degree water i say screw it and start looking for the baby powder.
Post a Comment