Temptation Surrenders to Experience

Woke up naked, in an empty, pale blue shower-bath tub, covered with a blanket, and there were several things wrong with that. For one, I don’t usually sleep naked. Two, I certainly don’t sleep in strange bathtubs that double as showers. Three, I prefer a sheet to sleep under, not a blanket. This seemed even more surreal because it was a floral printed blanket, with watercolor roses of a soft blush pink. I hate floral prints. Not my blanket. Not my bathtub.

The thoughts were just a distraction, I didn’t want to think about the startling fact I didn’t know whose bathtub I was in, why, or how I’d gotten there. Worse, the shower curtain had been drawn across the opening in mock privacy that made the minimal light murky, and the source indistinguishable. Thankfully, it was a nice sunrise printed piece of plastic, and not floral, but that observation was just me avoiding (again) the glaring reality that I had no idea what was on the other side of that stupid splash guard, or why I was on the tub-side.

Obviously, I was tempted to just throw the curtain open, but there was my nakedness to think about. The blanket was clearly bulky and would probably cause clumsiness, but being totally naked would mean also totally exposed to the unknown. I didn’t even know if the bathroom threshold was open or closed. The light could have been coming from the door left ajar. I just wanted more time to think, but NOT about those nagging questions; how did I get like this in the first place… and Why?!

It was too late, in my desire for more time to think, I only triggered my mind to indulge in the required memory.

[“Just one more!” They’d laughed, offering me another shot of I-had-no-idea-what-I-was-drinking.

“No, no, not for me! I know my limit, and I’ve reached it.” I replied with a drunken chuckle in kind.]

Immediately, I groaned as I realized I shouldn’t have taken that last shot. There was a sound in the wake of my groan, and too, mental images flooded my brain, nagging me for my attention. In my mind, I had unceremoniously returned the alcohol to my friends almost as soon as I’d broken down and drank it; in the bathroom, something rustled in a whisper of what-I-swore-had-to-be movement. Maybe I wasn’t alone in the bathroom, maybe after my friend turned off the water and threw a blanket over the curtain rod, they’d made a bed in the floor too, I thought to myself. The only way to know, my consciousness countered, was to open the curtain and look.

No sooner did I sit up, with a soft bubble of air farting between my naked backside and the empty tub, the light flicked on and blinded me from above. In that moment, the startled part of my brain seized the floral blanket in hand, and prepared to use it as fluffy weapon of impromptu destruction. It was a net, a garrote, a wad of oxygen deprivation, anything I needed it to be if it came down to it. I was ready, if also still naked and seated in the bathtub.

I didn’t hear the footsteps, but I was very aware of the dark shadow cast on that sunrise I’d praised only a few minutes before. As if the intruder had any other logical intent in a bathroom, I was further surprised at the sound of the shadow passing morning water. That silly blanket went from weapon to shield, and I failed in my attempt to use it to hide my embarrassment. I also could not take my eyes off the obscure figure. When the bathroom got quiet again, I tensed to see the shadow move closer and become more refined. A hand reached for the edge of the curtain and I knew it would be opened.

It was just a peek, but our eyes met, and with a loud giggle, the peeper retreated; only I dropped the blanket to catch the curtain and follow the movement. I got an eye-full of naked butt leaving through the opened door.

Then, I heard from the other room, “hahaha, only my butt!”

If I hadn’t been tempted into that last drink, I wouldn’t have woken in a bathtub, and had this silly story to share as example that some bad temptations are worth the memories made through the indulgence.

-M.E.

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(Authors Note: Purposefully written to obscure the identity and gender of the folks involved.)