Mackenzie had waited almost six months for a plumber to come and fix her shower. The shower dribbled. It was useless. Mackenzie pined for the old days where the weight of falling water just about forced one down through the plughole. But this was a mere trickle, even with everything turned up full.
At last the plumber knocked on the door. It didn’t take Daniel the plumber long to announce that it was going to be a big job. He’d have to pull a few things to bits, including a section of the wall tiles to get to the water pipes. Mackenzie said to go ahead; anything to increase the shower flow.
Daniel set to work, crowbar and all. What a mess! The water was cut; the wall was opened; the showerhead was taken off. “I hope you were not wanting to take a shower today,” said Daniel. “I’ll have to come back tomorrow and finish the job. I’ve got to get a few parts.”
That was eighteen months ago. COVID struck. Lockdowns began. Daniel died.
Mackenzie wasn’t allowed to visit the kind neighbours but she did – with a towel.
Judy rather proudly proclaimed in her stringent voice (it was actually a private conversation but she spoke loud enough for everyone to hear because she was so pleased with herself) that her golden retriever puppy had learnt to open the bathroom door and then open the shower door and get into the shower.
“Right when I’m having a shower,” she said. “Right when I’ve shampooed my hair and have my eyes shut. The first time I got a huge fright, but I’m used to it now. Such a clever puppy! Intelligent! He loves playing in water. And then by the time I’ve rinsed the shampoo out of my hair and opened my eyes, the puppy’s gone. But he always turns the light on. Isn’t that clever?”
“I thought you were going to say it was the fancy man that visits your house every day around that time,” said Ivan.
“What fancy man?”
Of course, Ivan was making it up, but he hated show-offs.
(This story is based on a joke originally told (I believe) by George Bernard Shaw (I believe.))
Of course earthquakes can be scary things. It wasn’t so much the possible devastation of an earthquake that got to Bruno as the fact that he’d just stepped out of the shower and ran like hell. He stood out on the road far enough from any possibly crumbling building. He had experienced many earthquakes and he’d hated every one of them.
Standing on the road he realized he was stark naked. He wasn’t even carrying a towel. Thank goodness the weather wasn’t cold, although it did mean that none of the neighbours had brought blankets or any item that Bruno could use.
Crowds built up. Everyone was saying “That was a biggie!” At last! A neighbour offered Bruno a cardigan.
“Here mate,” he said. “Cover yourself up.”
Bruno covered his face. Hopefully no one could recognize him now. No one did of course, until Fanny Dolan from just down the road asked in a fairly loud voice: “Why is Bruno standing there with no pants on and covering his face with a cardigan?”
It was very spooky. Within seconds of Natasha getting wet in the shower (this is at night time) the bathroom light would go off. It started only about a month ago, and occasionally. Now it happened automatically, every time.
“Blow it,” thought Natasha, not as yet equating the event with supranatural causes, “I shall walk dripping wet across the bathroom floor and turn the light back on.” She did just that. But no sooner had she got back into the shower the light went out again.
Next above the sound of water falling, she heard “hee hee hee”. It was a woman’s voice. It was coming from the direction of the light switch. Natasha began to feel scared. The “hee hee hee” had certain nasty overtones.
Natasha stepped immediately out of the shower, strode to the light switch, turned it on and reached for a towel. All the bathroom towels had gone. Not even the usual hand towel was there.
And then she saw it. OMG! She saw it! Natasha screamed. That scream was the last sound ever to come out of Natasha’s mouth.
Devon lived alone. It was the depth of winter, and it happened to be his birthday.
Devon had meticulously planned his solo celebration. He made a steak and kidney pie (his favourite but he reserved it for special occasions) and a lemon and honey cheesecake (his favourite but he reserved it for special occasions). To go with it, he had purchased a big can of Trappist Lager (his favourite but he reserved it for special occasions).
The log fire was blazing. Devon laid his pyjamas, slippers, and dressing gown near the fire so they would be warm and cosy when he got out of the shower.
In the shower he sang “Happy Birthday to Me” at the top of his voice, dried himself and walked naked (who cares when one lives alone?) to the fireplace.
Although Julia’s bathroom had a shower, she preferred to take a bath. She loved to lie there in the warmth of her bath, covered in bubbles. Of course, she kept her bath immaculate. It was always perfectly scrubbed after each bath, otherwise it would become just too hard to clean altogether. She lived alone, so she didn’t have to worry about cleaning the bath after others had used it.
When she went on a month long cruise in a luxury liner, her cabin didn’t have a bath. But not to worry; she had a shower. She could lie in her bath to her hearts content when she went home.