Earlier today, I visited the hot tub and when I got out, I saw that someone had used my towel. It brought to mind a similar incident some time ago. At least, I had the presence of mind to speak up then. This time I was too busy relaxing in the jacuzzi to pay attention. Today’s occurrence was, no doubt, a sign to stay on my toes.
I decided to drop by my favorite swimming hole.
I first did time in the hot tub, which lived up to its name.
Before going in, I had placed my plastic bag, containing goggles and shampoo, inside my carefully rolled up towel and put it on the bench so it could watch me. Every so often, I waved. “Hi,” I said.
All was going well, until a man strode in. He wore dark blue trunks and black flip flops. He set down his towel. Swinging his arm, he pushed my towel out of the way. It rolled open. Looking on the bright white side, I’d say he was rolling out the white carpet for me.
But instead, I saw things the way my towel did. “Excuse me,” I said when he climbed into the hot hot tub, “that’s my towel.”
“My towel. Over there. You just pushed it out of the way. Towels have feelings, too.”
“Sorry,” he said. He climbed out and picked it up, hanging part of it over the silver-colored bar.
Now my towel had a hang-up.
I tried to look on the bright side. It was better than his throwing in the towel.