Having played stairs roulette for two weeks in an attempt to break Hypochondriac Girl’s spirit (or legs), I realised that I was getting nowhere fast. Or rather, I was getting out of breath fast, but she just seemed to be getting faster at talking.
Upon hearing the same story for the eighth time, I decided more drastic action was called for. And what better way to escape someone with a gimpy knee (and pound out some frustration at the same time) than a good old-fashioned game of squash. Granted, I’d never played before, but desperate times and all that.
And so, yesterday evening, me and one of the other normal teachers (yes, I’m including myself in that category) took to the squash court. 40 minutes later, I emerged, sweaty and victorious. I had somehow managed to beat my worthy opponent 2-0, and to my credit, I only hit him twice – once with my racquet and once with the ball.
Feeling like nothing in the world could possibly get me down, I raced back to the house to have a quick shower. The thought of a few celebratory pints kept my smile firmly in place as I bypassed gimpy and another teacher gossiping in the hallway outside my door.
Mumbling a vague pleasantry while clutching towels and toiletries, I managed to make it past the two of them and to the relative sanctuary of the bathroom. Peeling off my satisfactorily sweaty sports duds, I stepped under the cooling jet of water. I was in the middle of happily lathering myself up when I realised someone was lurking outside the shower curtain…
…and they were speaking to me. I managed to make out ‘Linda’…’naked’…’show’…’text’, so in a slight panic, I removed my head from under the water to splutter a ‘what??’
Amid giggling, I heard ‘Oh Linda, I know you’re naked but I just had to show you this text! It’s so funny!’ Fearing that my hearing was failing me, or my sanity had finally left the building, I turned off the water to make sure I’d heard this correctly. I had.
Who, I ask you, interrupts a virtual stranger while they’re having a shower to tell them about a text message? English colleagues seemingly. And, to add insult to injury, it wasn’t even gimpy, it was the other teacher.
I have a horrible feeling of foreboding. The inappropriateness is spreading. The chatter is never going to stop. The walls are closing in. Nowhere, not even the shower, is safe anymore.
I sincerely doubt that a Latvian woman would carry on in this manner. They’d be far more likely to jump in the shower with you.
Only joking, sorry boys.
At least I still have my sense of humour, eh?