It was 2003 or 2004, I’m not quite sure. All I do remember is that it was hot and I slept with the bedroom window slightly ajar, only because I was on the third floor and felt relatively safe to do so. We hadn’t seen each other in ages, and I decided a few days with her would be good for my soul and she clearly felt the same way. We laughed through the days, lounging lazily in hammocks on her Spanish style deck over-looking emerald hills and listening to the birds while we sipped on orange juice.
It was after brunch on one of the days that I decided to take a shower in the main bathroom on the second floor. I can still remember my bare feet grazing the wooden floor as I made my way to what can only be described as heaven in a bathroom. At the end of the large room, on a strategic elevated platform was the shower.
Now this was unlike any shower I’d ever seen before in my life. Climbing two wooden steps onto the platform, I had to walk over various mosaic stone tiles and a floor littered with white stones and pebbles, to get to the centre where the shower head was situated. It was quite large, had no shower doors and could have easily been a small room on its own. The shower was designed to look like you were outdoors and was surrounded by various plants and shrubbery. There was an entire wall made of glass that looked out onto the real garden, also designed strategically in a manner that afforded complete privacy to the user. So essentially, stepping into the shower was like stepping into a little garden. It was an awesome experience and I would shower often, and for my own amusement throughout my stay there.
On this particular day, I went about my business as usual. We had just had breakfast made up of muesli, coffee and muffins on the terrace and I thought a nice hot shower would be a great start to another day of lounging about and watching movies. I remember walking into the bathroom and closing the door, not bothering to lock it since it was only the two of us there and we weren’t expecting anyone else. I took my time, soaking up the heat from the water and even decided to wash my long hair for the second time that week.
Unbeknownst to me, some of her friends popped in for a quick visit, to drop off some DVD’s that they had borrowed the previous week. The succession of events that had occurred in that time frame still amuses me. It was as if it had been planned by the Universe, a divine force because it was timed perfectly, right down to the last second.
One of her friends needed to use the bathroom and excused himself whilst everyone else sat down and chatted for a bit. He must have climbed the stairs, two at a time, reaching the top in no time. It was at this exact moment that I stepped out of the shower, wringing the excess water from my hair, before stepping down the two wooden steps to get a towel on the bench. Without hearing any noises within the bathroom and assuming no one else was there, he opened the door.
It was like time had stopped. My left foot was still on the stairwell, my right foot just touching the ground below when we made eye contact. It was literally a fraction of a second suspended in time, feeling like an eternity. The shocked expression on his face, closely followed by a gut wrenching scream from my vocal chords broke the time warp we were frozen in and he turned on his heel and ran. I grabbed my towel in succession, all the while screaming at the top of my lungs, like a freaking pack of Banshees. I ran towards her room, down the corridor from the bathroom, while he tried to run down the steps. In the meantime, everyone who congregated in the lounge heard me screaming like I was being murdered and rushed upstairs to see what was wrong.
For the second time that day, it was as if time had frozen, suspended in air as he made his way down the stairwell, tripped on the second stair leading to the lounge and tumbled down, onto everyone else who was climbing up to the second floor to see what happened. It was like a bowling ball had met its target and all the pins collapsed and rolled down the stairs too. I just heard the thumps and what sounded like a nasty collision course as I slammed her door and locked it.
There I was, wet hair dripping all over her carpet, but I was not bothered. I was MORTIFIED and even trembling slightly. She rushed to the door and asked me if I was ok…I could not speak. She banged on the door and I refused to open it. It had eventually occurred to her what had happened and she couldn’t disguise the laughter in her voice. She begged me to open the door but I sat on the floor, towel around me, wet hair against the door, curled up in a ball thinking that I had NEVER been so embarrassed in my life! By this time she was in stitches, and I could her laughter echoing in the corridor as she made her way down to the lounge. Everyone else was downstairs, dealing with their injuries, assessing the damage and laughing their asses off. And apparently from what I heard, he was blushing and embarrassed too.
They left twenty minutes later…I stayed in the room until I heard the car leave…then waited an extra 2 minutes to make sure they were gone before I emerged from her room. She took one look at my face and keeled over laughing, quite literally rolling on the floor. It was her source of amusement the rest of the week and didn’t stop even when I jabbed her in the ribs for laughing at me.
Thankfully, I never saw him again.