Yes, I realize you are old. Yes, I realize that when I desire to use your services, it is fairly early in the morning, and it is probably difficult to remember which faucet is hot and which is cold. Nevertheless, you are a shower: showering people is what you were designed to do. Atleast that is what I am guessing you were designed to do, although that assumption is based more on my past experiences with showers, rather than your performance these past few months. If I were to hazard a guess as to your reason for existence, it would be to alternatly scald and then freeze the hapless individuals who stepped inside your porcelain rim for a quick scrub and maybe, sometimes, some have shower sex. A one millimeter turn of the hot water knob does not, you see, warrant a change in water temperature from "chilly" to "blistering." A one millimeter change in the cold water knob does not warrant a change from "a bit too warm" to "arctic." Me standing there scrubbing my naughty bits does not mean that I want you to blanche my buns like so much whatever-food-it-is-that-people-blanche. You see, I am not a penguin. Neither am I one of those bacterial colonies that thrives in the boiling tidal pools found in national parks. Neither am I an individual who enjoys experimenting with exciting and extreme water tempteratures. If I wanted to burn myself, I would boil a pot of water on the stove and then tilt said pot over my head. If I wanted to freeze myself, I would wander naked in the snow, or stick my hands into the vats of liquid nitrogen they have hidden in the chem labs. Since I do neither of these things (and moreover, since none of the occasional shower-partners engage in these activities either) it is safe to say that I do not enjoy being burned, chilled, and blistered when I take a shower. I know you are old, but Strom Thurmond has more control over his pipes than you.
See, some people need this thing called “personal time.” It is kind of like personal space, only it is kind of mental. It is nothing against you (except you are the one who is invading all my personal time) but sometimes, I just want to watch TV by myself. Give me a day or two, eh?
My 10:00 class:
If I am going to wake up before noon, I except to be alerted if the class is going to, say, decide to change rooms. Rousing myself at the crack of dawn only to find an empty classroom (where the hell did you go?) does not a happy student make. You didn’t even leave a note as to your whereabouts, for crying out loud.
Just because I waxed exstatic last week upon the discovery that that thing sitting behind the cumbersome broom and dust pan was vacuum cleaner, and just because I happily stated something along the lines of “Oh Boy! I LOVE cleaning with this VACUUM CLEANER! I COULD clean all DAY with my VACUUM CLEANER!” does not mean I meant it.
Where in god’s name is all that dirt coming from, I ask? Sure, I tracked in a bit after that rain a few days ago, but why are you causing this dirt and mud to multiply? Why are you letting this dirt migrate freely about the apartment? What kind of ungrateful floor are you? Stop pretending like I am tracking things in I am not, please, or I will be forced to take action. As much as I enjoy going barefoot, I do not want my feet to enjoy a natural environment in the apartment. Consider yourself warned.
phew! if only my shower were literate, things would be looking up right about now.