April 10, 2014

So there I was, sitting buck naked on a bath towel, on the floor of my bathroom, attempting to give myself a sponge bath out of a soup pot because my hot water heater decided to go on strike. No. It's not a pretty sight. But actually getting to the bathing part alive was no small task. The first "bath I drew," I poured equal parts boiling water and tap water into the pot and placed it on the closed lid of the toilet seat. I stepped over to get out a wash rag and I kid you not that soup pot was jumping to its death off the toilet bowl. The crash of the pot induced a wee bit of a dainty shriek but the hot splashing water on my skin brought forth a slew of such filthy vulgarity that Beetle barked and the cats hid under the bed. The good news is my bathroom floor is clean, well at least I thought. So, again.. to the towel and a just right water temperature (second times a charm) in my make shift bath basin sitting perfectly square on the floor. It was fucking miserable. You don't get all fresh like a morning shower kind of wet, you get damp like gross reclaimed water out of the water misters at a theme park wet and then attempting to use the right amount of soap and water is mission fucking impossible..I had the completely wrong ratio of soap to wet wash cloth that the soap was on my skin in a layer that finally started lathering when I was trying to rinse it, then the rinse water was contaminated with the soap water and I hadn't even gotten past my arms yet! and my GOD the HAIR!!! stray, random hair, sticking to my body every where the wash cloth touched...hair from me, maybe Beetle, maybe old Mr. Whosywhatsit that lived here a decade ago, or maybe from the family of rats that are surely living in the walls seeing the size of the hole at the corner of the baseboard under the bathroom vanity! Did the Universe put a "kick me" sign on my back???
But as God as my witness, this is the thought that occurred to me..Man.. I am one lucky asshole that I live in a civilized society with running water, sewer systems, and doors for hiding behind to clean all my dirty bits. Praise God! Can I get an AMEN! And I have to say it. I am a bold faced liar if I EVER told any of you that I liked camping. Bullshit. I have camped overnight... not overnightS! One night does not a camper make. Oh..and all these wild eyed fantasies of traveling on do-good missions to third world countries to help vaccinate the natives and teach them English- HELL NO. I don't need to re-enact this whole "bathing" experience again anyplace that might result in me dying from being bit by a mosquito or mauled by a hippopotamus. I'm pretty sure that in Zimbabwe the dirt floors are incredibly therapeutic for getting those pesky knots out of my back that I get from sleeping on my plush pillow top, 600 thread count sheeted, king size bed, in a darkened room with a fan running, but I'm willing to risk the eternal damnation by keeping my volunteering to places more attuned to someone of my sensibilities. Shoot, I'm not asking for the Ritz Carlton, give me a Motel 6 and I'll leave the damn light on for you.

Dear Maintenance Man,
If I have to drag you down here by your uvula I will..because one thing is for certain...This girl is not, I repeat, NOT about to wait until next week for a new water heater to get installed because you pussy footed around all Friday and didn't make it in time to take care of this monumental problem (emphasis on mental) I am enduring. Shit just got real man and I am not afraid to hold you hostage.
Your faithful, on time, rent paying, don't care if my ass stinks so bad, gonna keep changing my underwear and walking fast so no one is sure it's me that stinks- tenant,
Brooke Albertson