so there I was tonight, in the bathroom. Not a euphimism for the dunny though I had just arisen from a reading of George Orwells essay on Good Bad books whilst perched over that necessary appliance.
Shower running, waiting for it to reach temperature and the lights went out. Our downstairs bathroom has no window thankfully. If it did the window would be at about waist height for an 8 year old and what they would spy through it would probably scar them for life. The upstairs bathroom has a window but it's about 12 feet above the ground; anyone spying through it gets what they deserve!
Without a window and with the door closed it went pitch black. Couldn't see a thing. No matter; I've showered in there for the last 3 and a bit years.
My wife, bless her, stuck her head in and asked if I needed a candle. Nope! I know where everything is.
Showered, dried, shaved (yes I shaved in total darkness. I shave in the shower and if I don't know the shape of my chin by now I never will) and dressed I emerged into a candlelit world.
My wife and I have done this many times before so we know the power will come back soon. Not so Andrew. Poor bastard. It seems he's afraid of the dark. I won't be too harsh with him about that; I'm afraid of heights. *shrug*
To be honest it was quite a novelty. The silence of the computers. I poured myself a glass of wine and relaxed on the patio with a ciggy. I might have suggested to my wife that if the power didn't return in half an hour I could think of things we could do that didn't need light! :-)
That was a no go so we move on. Andrew, he of little resource if TV is dead, bethought to himself 'I can play a game on my iPod'. Hopes dashed; the battery was flat. 'Oh' he said sheepishly, 'I didn't charge it'. I laughed. 'And now you know why I keep all my stuff charged!'.
A little later Andrew fell back on food. It seems that somewhere along the way he's got the idea that overeating is a way to compensate for whatever. I foresee a fat adult. He grabbed some cookies, excusing himself by saying he eats when he's nervous. Ok, I'll go with that. An alcoholic isn't standing on very secure ground in those kinds of arguments.
He notes that the fridge light doesn't come on. Both me and my wife laugh.
A little later (the power was still off) Andrew asks me 'Will the Microwave work?'. I despair! What does he think powers the Microwave Oven? I tell him it won't. 'Oh', downcast. 'Will the oven work?'. 'Nope, we're all electric!'.
I really do need to take that lad in hand and explain a few simple realities!