Lesson in manners whilst moving house

Clearly I don’t understand sophisticated company (!):

Recently, while helping someone move house, I had to ask the new owner if I could use her toilet. The new owners had arrived early …

“You mean the Baaathroom!” she tittered.

I was puzzled, as you can probably tell. Never mind, when in Rome, do as the Romans do …

“Certainly madam,” said I. “I prefer to use the lavatory, but if it pleases you, I’ll pee in the bath … beg pardon … the baaaath.”

It was interesting to see the variety of possible responses chasing each other across her face, ranging from righteous indignation to girly giggles – clearly she still isn’t sure who she is.

Anyway, after my compatriot had recovered from the stomach cramps, and visited the toilet – presumably to take a shower … sorry .. baaaath, we finished loading the van and left.

Now I’ve given the episode more thought, I reckon madam was right. Despite her girly giggles she’s clearly as old I am, and one of the inevitable consequences of age is poorer eyesight. So in future I’ll convert to her way of thinking and use the bathroom, sorry, baaaathroom … It would be hard to miss, wouldn’t it?

 labels:  fiction, funny, satire, snobbery

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