My bathroom has an itty-bitty window. I don't usually like the idea of having a window in the bathroom and I don't know why it was put there, but for Sri Lankan architecture, this isn't the most unusual thing I've seen. Moving on, behind said window is a tiny balcony, and by tiny, I mean that if I have a meal out there, it might take some time before I can turn around to come back in the house. Since all of this is on the second floor and the only thing visible from it is sky and the very top of my neighbors house, I never really bothered with putting curtains or taking any privacy measures. I'm not worried about birds watching me shower, though maybe I should be... Do you think birds would call their bird friends and be like, "Hey dude, check her out. She's showering. No, put down the worm, this is far better."
Let's move on...
When I initially moved in, there were numerous occasions where I scared myself shitless going in to the bathroom at night. (Pun intended.) The bright lights would cause me to holler out and get in to a kung-fu ninja pose as I saw my own reflection in the window. Over the years, Zak and I have become used to it, and stopped training for our black belt in the bathroom. Until that one awful night...
It's two am. I had been doing some work in the home office and Zak had just returned from a night out with the boys. Going through our nightly ritual, the both of us headed toward the bathroom NEKKID AS A NEWBORN BABY. As we brush our teeth, I notice Zak looking at the window and then back at the mirror. Again, he looks at the window, and at this point, I was all "WTF are you doing? Either brush your teeth or back away from the sink fool!" And that's when I noticed a man at our mutha fuckin window. A man, y'all. Not our reflections, but a grown ass man. And it was around that time that I screamed bloody murder. My reaction seemed to set the peeping tom off, because as he realized that I saw him, his eyes widened and I saw him struggle. The fool must have thought we had reverse tinted windows or some shit, because to be at the angle he was, he had to have stood on the balcony rail, to PLASTER his face to our window.
I continued to stand in the middle of my bathroom, goodies on display, wielding a toothbrush with toothpaste frothing at my mouth, screaming bloody murder. I admit, not one of my finest moments. I realize that Zak was doing something, but I wouldn't be able to tell you what if my life depended on it. As we ran downstairs, with clothes on (just to clarify), my sister in laws came running out of their room. They had heard the initial screaming but decided that I was probably screaming at the sight of a dead cockroach. No one takes me seriously anymore, but that's another blog post. "It was a man!", I yelled. "A REAL MAN!" They all turned to Zak to confirm - again lets reiterate that I am not taken seriously in this house. Cautiously opening the backdoor armed with mace, a cricket bat*, and a cell phone, we realized we were too late and that the peeping bastard (no longer referred to as 'Tom'), had gotten away by breaking our pipes and falling over the neighbor's wall. Had we had crappier pipes, he would have fallen to his death at our (back) door step. Maybe not death - how high up does a person have to be to die from a fall? Moving on...
The very next day, Zak came home with some sort of window-boarding-up device that not only keeps away wandering eyes, but no longer allows me to open up the window and let some sunshine and fresh air in. I now call it the window of death. I think the birds don't like the new window either; I saw a flock of them lined up behind my house a couple of days later protesting, or they might have been eyeing my open trash can. I'm not sure.
The lesson here is that someone should create toothbrushes with mace sprays on the bottom. This might lead to a few terribly embarrassing emergency room stories, but in my case, they would be worth it!
* For those who got confused at the words 'cricket bat', I like to explain it as an Asian baseball bat. It's flat rather than round, but it serves the same purpose. And the men swinging them professionally wear tight pants too, so everything's ok.
Picture of the now boarded up window that keeps away prying eyes, birds and clouds. Oh, and my reflection and something hanging on my bathroom door.
No comments:
Post a Comment