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Bathroom In Distress

I was in Duseldorf, Germany in 1991. I was staying with my friend Stefan and his mom. Stefan was an exchange student at my high school the year before. He and I had become friends. He had invited me to come and see him. I thought, “Why not?” When I first got there, we went skiing in Switzerland. It was great. I wrote about this trip earlier. I recently remembered a part of the trip that I have not shared in my blogs.

After skiing in Switzerland, we returned to Stefan’s home in Duseldorf. We did some touring around of cities nearby. I loved it. I even went to one of Stefan’s English classes with him. He started back to school while I was there. I was nervous. They asked me a lot of questions. I guess they thought that I knew everything about the English Language since I spoke it. I rose to the challenge. I impressed them. I probably bs’d my way though it. I am good at that. That is not what I wanted to share with you. There was an event that I’ll never forget.

I was at the apartment with Stefan and his mom. It was kind of awkward at first. I didn’t speak German, except phrases like: “Help, Police,,” and “I have a yellow pencil.” Those two phrases are inseparable in an emergency, you know? Anyway, here I was struggling through conversations with Stefan’s mom. Stefan spoke great English. He just never spoke. I am sure that they wished that I would shut up.

I decided I was going to get a bath and go to bed. I told them that. They showed me the bathroom. I got my stuff together and entered the bathroom. I noticed some unique things about the bathroom. I’ll point those out.

My first observation about the bathroom was that it was carpeted. It wasn’t just normal carpet. It was the thick stuff with a pad. This will become key in this story. The second thing I noticed was that the toilet had no water in it. It was dry as a bone. It was also shaped funny. The back of the bowl, the part where you do your business, had a small elevated pedestal in the back of it. It kind of was shaped like a small water slide with a scooped out part at the bottom. Below that was a hole that was about five inches below it at the bottom. This is how it worked. Facing the toilet, the water came out the top and backside toward the front. It shot down the tiny slide that was molded out of the porcelain. From there it took whatever was in the scooped out part and moved it down into the hole. This all happened with great force. The first time I flushed it, I jumped out of the way. The water was really moving. I got concerned that the bowl couldn’t contain it. It was crazy. The third thing that I noticed about the bathroom was the best.

I had been fully entertained by the toilet. I flushed it a couple of times just to watch the force of the water. It was cool. With my ADHD personality, I quickly became bored with that. So, I moved on. It was time to take a bath. As you do, I put on my bathing clothes. I got into the shower. I immediately noticed two things. One, there was no shower curtain. Two, the shower nozzle was a free-hander. You know, the kind that you have to move around your body by hand. I was stumped. No shower curtain and a free-hander didn’t seem to fit. I couldn’t figure out what to do. Do I stand? Do I sit? How do I keep from squirting water everywhere? Well, I realized that my ability to contain the water was impossible.

I chose to sit in the tub to contain as much water as possible. I reached forward and turned the water on to the comfortable temperature. Then, I made my biggest mistake yet in this situation; I turned on the shower nozzle. Water immediately shot across the room and hit the closed bathroom door. The water hit with such force that I am certain Stefan and his mom both turned and looked at the other side of the bathroom door thinking, “What in the world is going on?” I was terrified. I quickly pointed the nozzle down into the tub. I regrouped and decided, in stupidity, to continue to use the nozzle. I thought, “Surely I can master a shower nozzle.” I was not about to let a shower nozzle beat me. Have you ever used one of these things? They are triiiicky. I tried to wash my hair. I would point the nozzle at my head. The water would shoot past my head and hit the mirror over the bathroom. I would try to wash my back. It would hit the ceiling. I was losing this battle with shame. By the time I finished bathing the bathroom, not myself, it looked like the fire department had been in there. You couldn’t have set that bathroom on fire with a fifty-five gallon drum of fuel and a blowtorch. Remember, the floor was carpeted.

I stepped out of the tub onto the floor. It was soaked. I spent the next hour sopping up water. I used every towel in sight. I opened the door an hour and a half later. When I walked out, Stefan and his mom just stared at me through the cloud of fog that surrounded me. They never said a word. I didn’t either. I went to my room in defeat.

I am sorry. If you can come up with a moral to this story or a biblical application, I would love to hear it. I am just going leave it alone.

I love you, your servant, your friend,
Tim

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