It’s late sometime near midnight and I thought I should take a shower. I gathered up my stuff and headed down the hall. There is a shower on one end of each sleeping car. I opened the door carefully and looked in to make sure no one else was in there. The way my luck goes I didn’t want any surprises. All was clear no naked people in there so in I went.
I took off my clothes and since they were dirty I threw them on top of my slippers which were on the floor. I took my towel, long johns and t-shirt and put them on the hook. I grabbed one of my special oil scented soaps and shampoos from my plastic Safeway bag. And then I climbed through the sliding glass doors and into the shower.
It felt super good showering in that molded yellow semi-detached unit. But it also felt very weird. It’s a strange sensation to be standing buck naked, washing yourself and making soap lathes when you’re being hauled along by some big locomotive driven by strange men.
I was totally enjoying my shower and didn’t want to get out. The hot steamy water and the warm lighting was having a sauna effect on me. But then I got to thinking I better not be greedy and use up all the hot water. Or for all I know maybe all the water. Who knows how much the train tank will hold or when they pick up water along the route. Come to think of it so far I have never seen them stop for water. “Hpmf they must have super big holding tanks”.
After my lengthy scrub down I happily turned off the taps and slid open the foggy glass doors. ” Oh for crying out loud! What the frig!” all this came out of me in one big breath. Then another “what the frig!” ( That should do it I am sure you get the message).
My clothes, slippers and towels were floating about a foot off the floor in dirty water . The frigging drain was plugged in the outside part of the plastic unit and it hadn’t drained one once of my shower water. Not to mention the dirt and grim from the previous how-many-I-don’t-know shower people. My stuff had been shaken off the hooks by the rumblings of the train and was now bobbing about in-between bits of hair, toilet paper (not from me and don’t ask), gobs of leftover shampoo, bits of dental floss (again don’t ask) not mine and all sorts of strange bits. I am sure you get the picture.
“Well this is a bitch” I cursed. Just like life – one moment your having a good time and the next moment you’re not. Because now I have to lose that squeaky clean and cosy feeling I just had a moment ago. I have to step out of this clean separated unit into that icky water to pick up my soggy clothes.
How do I get myself into these situations? Now I am stuck in the shower stall which is at the other end of the car from my little room. I have no clean or dry towels or clothes. I don’t even have slippers. Everything is wringing wet and filthy dirty. No way I am wrapping any of that stuff around my scrubbed body. What the hell I am I going to do with all this wet stuff? “Ok don’t panic” I says to myself.
At least I am not locked in the shower. That’s a plus. I grabbed the floating Safeway bag and stuffed my things into it. Then I opened the door a crack and had a look with one eye from behind the door. The coast looked clear. I couldn’t see or hear anyone. I made a run for it. Stark naked, white as the snow outside, with my dripping hair, wobbling belly fat, streaking down the skinny hallway with my Safeway bag leaking water like a spray hose. I left a guilty trail all the way back to my room.
Once I got myself sorted out back at the room I listened for the Via attendant from my room. Just in case he came by I would tell him about the plugged drain and big mess I left behind. He never showed up as it was well past midnight now. I wasn’t liking the idea of having wet slippers and no fresh clothes for the next day. Remember my space was tiny so finding a way to hang all this drenched stuff was a huge challenge. I didn’t want anyone to see my soggy mess or they would know it was me who flooded the shower
For some crazy reason I thought I plugged the drain somehow. I spent the whole night fretting about it. Like it was all my fault. Then first thing in the morning an arm popped through my curtain ( I didn’t slide my door but pulled my curtain shut instead, you can do either or) with two fresh towels attached to it. A deep kind voice said with a giggle “thought you might like a couple of dry towels.” He further said “a sensual soapy scent wafted through my curtain last night. I thought I was dreaming about women running bare boned down train corridors but lo and behold it was no dream.” “Oh Shit!”