The Quiet Things No One Knows

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The Quiet Things That No One Notices

Spending a weekend at home after two months at college proved to be a greater relief than I had anticipated. The familiar sound of my alarm clock beeping, and the yap of my twelve pound Bichon caused an array of summer time memories to flood my thoughts. The hardwood floors and tiled kitchens were reminiscent of my childhood, and the sound of my mother’s voice echoing from room to room a vivid reality now that I arrived at home. After a night of hellos to many old friends, and many old places, a shower was in order before falling asleep in my familiar bed.

This shower, however, was unlike any I had recently taken. There was no worry that the ‘good’ shower might be in use, or that both showers would be in use. I simply walked barefoot down the hardwood floor separating my room from the bathroom, put a towel on the cold tile floor, undressed, throwing my clothes on the floor as I hopped into the shower, barefoot.

Two nights later I returned to my dorm at the University of Vermont, and after unpacking decided on taking a shower after the four and half hour car ride to relax myself for a good night’s sleep. At first I walked into the bathroom, quickly realizing I needed my basket with shampoo, soap bar, mirror, razor and shaving cream to accomplish anything, however, after entering the bathroom for attempt two it is quickly realized that I am still lacking the necessary foot ware to prevent infection from many possible fungus and diseases. So I reluctantly returned to my room to exchange my sneakers for shower sandals and made the third attempt at showering. After half-way undressing I suddenly realize that I am missing perhaps the most significant part of any shower, a towel. How else would I dry myself off? What would I use to cover my body for the walk down the hallway after a cleansing shower?




Once again I returned to my room and retrieved a towel from my closest, my favorite towel, my big fluffy green towel, and wandered back to the bathroom for yet another attempt at a late night shower before a much needed night of sleep. Finally I say to myself, I turn the faucet about 0 degrees, which yields water at my preferred showering temperature, and finally I enter the shower, however, I have just made the most awful mistake possible, my dorm room is unattended and unlocked. Horrible scenarios run through my head, my computer being stolen, my room being trashed, my iPod being permanently borrowed. What would I do without my electronic sources of relief from society?

To the extreme aggravation of myself, it was once again necessary to exit the bathroom and return to my room. Nothing had been touched, a relief, but a disappointment none the less that it had taken nearly half a dozen attempts before I could shower. Once in the shower I could swear it had been reduced in size since my last shower before returning home. The walls felt imprisoning, and no matter how I positioned myself I was still in contact with one of the not-so-clean walls.

Shampooing went without incident, as did washing my face, then the most horrid of all shower experiences struck. I dropped the soap. Cleaning myself with soap that had touched the floor would be the same as if I did not wear sandals, and rubbed myself on the filth of others.

Watching the soap ricochet from wall to wall and finally come to rest above the drain my memories return to the last shower in my private bathroom. The simplicity of it really, the ability to wash the bottom of my feet without strategic planning, or the willingness to drop my soap bar on the floor of my tub as a resting place, while I rinse the soap suds from my body. The tub; another awesome memory. After a long cold day of mountain bike riding, nothing could warm my cold bones like laying in a warm bubble bath. Though this is not even an option at school, if it was, the idea is horribly repulsive.

Now that I have returned to school the fantasies of a private shower, a shower without the intricate planning to wash the bottoms of feet, or the heads up thinking to remember all the necessary components of a your shower are nothing more than memories of a weekend gone past.



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