Thursday, 19 November 2009
TMI THURSDAY : OH NO, I SAID TOO MUCH . . . AGAIN . . .
So once again it's Thursday and according to LiLu, that means it's TMI Time (check out her blog for another Post Secret-esque volume today). And to be honest, I've contributed like three times now (I think?) and I'm already running out. So today's attempt is not so much a TMI, as a case of me GIVING TMI to someone else . . .
(Shit. Did that sound rude? It wasn't meant to.)
ANYWAY . . .
So I've lived in my flatshare for over six years now and in that time many girls have come and gone, but my landlord has stayed the same. He doesn't live there, he owns many flats around the west end of Glasgow, but there have been points where he seemed to spend a lot of time hanging out there, especially when the place was getting renovated a few years back (it basically got renovated around me as I refused to move elsewhere). Now, I don't mind my landlord at all; he can annoy the hell out of me at times, and (inadvertently, I think) be a bit sleazy, but overall, he's a nice guy. (Mich would probably tell you a different story though! Especially when she's hiding in my closet cos she's banned from the flat and he's unexpectedly turned up, haha)
Anyway, I used to tell people how he had this great knack for turning up in the flat when I'd just come out of the bath or shower, or was still IN it. And one day I was in the flat, having ran a lovely relaxing bubble bath when . . . sure enough . . . I heard him do his classic "four doorbell rings followed by immediately entering the flat". (Presumably he thinks he's giving time to warn us he's on his way in, but that doesn't really work if he is practically unlocking the door at the same time.)
I could hear him in the kitchen talking to one of my flatmates at the time, a really sweet French girl, and I lay in the bath cringing, hoping that he wouldn't ask if I was around. I couldn't really be bothered trying to conduct some sort of conversation through the bathroom door while I was trying to relax after a tough day . . . and, of course, naked!!!
But within a couple of minutes he was knocking on the bathroom door. "Hi Paula!" he shouted. "How are you?"
Dammit. "I'm fine thanks," I struggled to sound friendly.
"Are you having a nice bath?" he asked me.
How did he know I was in the bath?
(Lucky guess, apparently, there's no cameras in there.)
I felt a bit uncomfortable about this. So I HAD to say something.
But not about how I would prefer not to be talking about how nice my bath was, FROM the bath, through a door to a sixty something man. Oh no, that would be too easy. Too mature.
"How do you know I'm in the bath?" I asked instead. "For all you know, I could be doing a pee!"
There was a brief silence from the other side of the door.
I have to fill silences. So I continued.
"OR . . . I could be doing a number two!"
MAJOR TMI ALERT!!!
The silence continued. I worried if I'd went too far. Then he spoke again.
"No . . . I prefer to think of you in the bath. Enjoying yourself."
That was a bit of an anti-climax of a TMI. But on reading it back, I'm not sure what's grosser - what I said, or his reply.
I think probably his reply would win that prize . . .