Shower and Drip Dry

We had a small, out of town, family reunion this weekend that involved my son, two of his daughters and I sharing hotel accommodations. On Saturday afternoon, the girls were preparing to use the hotel pool with their cousin. They had towels from the hotel bathroom under their arms.

I stopped them before they left and encouraged them to use pool towels in order to keep the bath towel for showers. They acknowledged.

Everyone except I did their bathing before bed on Saturday night. The next morning I woke early and quietly gathered my toiletries. In the bathroom were four blue-striped pool towel in corner on the floor.

Unfortunately, every other piece of bath linen, with exception of one used towel, was also in the heap. My son had hung his towel over the shower curtain rod to dry. I considered my choices.

In theory, the hanging towel had dried a clean body and thus was clean itself. This was my son so I could get by with that towel. It wasn't like risking the transfer of a skin disorder from total stranger.

At least, a contagion from this towel would be kept in the family. I didn't get a lot of comfort in the notion though. It reminded me of few paragraphs in 'Tis, the autobiography of the late author, Frank McCourt.

Mr. McCourt described living in a rooming house where he shared a bathroom and one towel with several other men. The landlady had drawn a line across the towel with the intent being that one end of the towel would used above waist. The other end was to be used below the waist.

Here I was, in a similar situation, except that this towel had no line drawn on it. Even if it did have a line I was struggling to recall how the men in 'Tis knew which end of towel was north and which end was south. Drip drying was another option.

This thought was not very pleasant though. There I would be with arms raised and turning slowly for full air flow. Then one of girls would knock on the door needing to pee.

If the bathroom had been equipped with a large electric hand dryer, like they had in some public restrooms, then that could have been an option. There was an electric hair dryer. I considered using that.

To my instant horror realized what could happen. I could be the victim of split ends on all of my body hair and itching, dry and flaking skin. That could cause some serious suffering for me.

Finally, as I recovered from the temporary trauma of the thoughts, a third idea came to me. I put on a shirt and pants and went down to the hotel desk. The nice lady there was happy to give me some fresh towels.