European Showers

Employee: Fucking shit, we’re going to die!
Employer: Watch your mouth boy, if you like this job!

Evil Dead II Act III, Sc I

I've taken up with a certain someone whose initials are “JF”- that’s Jack Frost for those yet to be schooled. He’s a rather mischievous lad, dogging the heels of all newcomers to these bleak shores. His latest trick has been to turn off the gas in my humble abode. Last night I made a careful survey of my apartment complex to find the gas main, but to no avail.
Of course ground control was less than accommodating. Given the language barrier with the folks at my company, it took some time to track down an English speaker. My impassioned pleas were met with a concealed Australian snigger. Should have said, “it wouldn’t be half as hilarious if it were happening to you”, but thought better about the hand that might help me out of such predicaments. I was assured that the problem would be resolved tomorrow.
However, this morning I was faced with the grim task of taking another European shower (just the pits and hair). As you can well imagine as the mercury plummets ever-downwards, my sheer dread of what awaited me in a basin of icy waters, first thing on a such a winters day. I shuddered instinctively in front of the faucet, as a cold wave of goose-bumps hit my shivering torso. Getting into a Japanese shower is hard enough, forget about the brutal cold! I'm scared to think what the rest of my body has gotten up to in the absence of cleanliness. I'm certain there's a Russian somewhere reading this, disgusted with my lack of polar bear resilience. My neighbors must have thought I was being flayed alive. One thing is for sure, I was awake after that!
So, I have an appointment tomorrow afternoon with the gas man, which means another day of slathering in my already stewed juices. Hopefully I won’t make the flowers droop too far or my co-workers take to wearing clothespins on their noses. Luckily for them, it isn’t the height of summer or we’d really have something to worry about!