Monday, June 04, 2007

To everything (turn, turn, turn)

When we could no longer ignore the fact that we were standing in ankle-deep water by the time the end of the shower rolled around, we realized it was time to maybe start considering calling our handyman. Soon.

The little drain cover had always remained firmly screwed in place, and we were always mindful to remove the population of lost hairs that would invariably gather-- and, really, what else can one do? Our hair is going to fall out until we die, and then it will keep growing and falling out after we've died. It's Nature's Way.

But goodness me our bathing experience was getting grim! So grim, in fact, that I was getting preemptive twinges of shame when I thought about Sweet Dennis the Semi-Responsive Handyman encountering what must be an almost certainly grotesque quantity of our... byproduct. I couldn't exactly picture myself sitting on the toilet seat, holding a gin martini, sighing, and telling Dennis that "it's Nature's Way" while he wrestles with our slimy hairball. It wasn't Dennis' hairball, now was it? His hairs probably just slide down the drain with ease, and lazily sink to the bottom of his septic tank-- for Dennis, that is Nature's Way.

And so, propelled by the need to accept responsibility for the things that fall off of my body and collect in places that usually only male strangers accept money to explore, I unscrewed the drain cover and probed away with a pair of needle-nose pliers.

The amount of hair I first extracted made sense. I noted the resistance I encountered when pulling it out and took it in stride, figuring it had wrapped around some critical pipe component to cause the sluggish draining. I decided to try one more angle just to make sure I had gotten it all before reassembling the drain. What happened next was absolutely disgusting.

The tip of a thick mass of hair, lubricated by old soap scum, pushed its way out of the hole as if propelled by free will. My face contorted as I let go of the pliers and the mass managed to continue forward for almost a centimeter. The only reason I didn't allow myself to become completely hypnotized was because of my intense belief that it was going to try to reestablish its rightful place in my scalp and take over my brain. When Pearl came home, I would have no choice but to encourage her half of the scummy hair clod to do the same-- and this, Dennis, would NOT be Nature's Way!

I grabbed the hideous nub and pulled. There was the quintessential sucking noise, and It Emerged.

And now, just as I faced my responsibility, you [The Reader] must face yours. Look upon it.

Look upon it and face your responsibility.

5 comments:

Texwaiian said...

I'm sure that big hair slug was left by the previous tenant. I'm willing to bet your hair just slides down the drain like silk.

Kene said...

i just vomited in my mouth a little

Accidentally Disastrous said...

thats groth!!!

jenovus said...

I hope you didn't throw that scummy lump away. It looks like the perfect texture for homemade stationery!

Lena Webb said...

It's gone, Ian. I picked it up with a half of a roll's worth of paper towel and set it in the waste basket.

Pearl unwittingly sat next to it every time she visited the toilet for days.