The Invention of New Curse Words

I’ve been surprisingly under the weather with some strange virus that’s left me with intense fever and body aches, ones similar to those felt after listening to a co-worker talk for fifteen minutes about how busy they are. I went to the doctor twice. It’s better to have a javelin protruding from your leg than to suffer from a virus. At least you can take the javelin out and go about your day.

Because people tend to dislike the stench of body odor, I opted to take a shower. Even though it was the last thing in the world that appealed to me. Yes, even behind voting sensibly.

I entered the bathroom and asked Alexa to play “Passera” by Il Divo. As the song began playing, Guino jumped up on the counter, expecting me to trickle the faucet for him. The song lifted my mood.

I stepped into the shower, being careful for once to keep my balance. I stood unusually close to the dual showerheads for the same reason. That’s when the fun commenced.

Being feverish causes forgetfulness and inattentiveness, not to mention really terrible hair.

I pulled the round knob out on the old assembly. It’s tricky because it can often come off. One of the many advantages of living in an older building is that you learn tricks. One of my learned tricks is to pull the control knob away quickly and with full water pressure. I always remember to check to see if the control valve is down.

Almost always.

Instead of the water coming out of the bottom spout as god intended, it came out of both shower heads at full force. With my achy skin, to say that the torrent of water that came out was cold would be the grossest of exaggerations. Because I was standing so close, the full force of the arctic blast of water covered me immediately. I tensed up as if I’d been tased. I’m not sure how I avoided falling. Had there been a window in the shower, one thirty feet above the ground, I would have gladly hurled myself through it.

Instead, I stood in the freezing water, convulsing like a suburban Karen complaining about the cheese on her Big Mac. While I can’t remember the words I shouted, they were new to me. My recovering, feverish brain opened a new portal to surprise and unhappiness as it created on-the-fly curse words for this special occasion. I shouted so loudly that I might have triggered an alarm on the vehicles outside. While I don’t remember what I shouted, the words sounded foreign and deeply insulting. Complete gibberish, as if I’d recently graduated from an Effective Management course.

I had no choice except to stand and wait for the water to warm up.

That’s how the best curse words are invented.

But I don’t recommend it.

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