Hamish McShanks

Hamish McShanks Secret Diary w/e 19^th March 06

There are three rituals a man has to do every morning. These ancient observances have been passed down over the generations, from father to son. They are steeped in great ceremony and treated with great reverence. I am of course alluding to the oft quoted ‘three S’es’. The first S requires the morning paper, or perhaps Sundays colour supplement, if you’re feeling posh. The second S requires a razor blade, a steady hand and a mirror. The third S; gallons of hot water and cleansing products of your choosing. Ok there are actually four rituals carried out by men every morning but the fourth is generally not talked about; the three S’s and a W doesn’t really have the same ring about it and anyway it should be the W and the three S’es. Or possibly the two W’s and a S ….. Aaaanyway, moving swiftly on.

Having successfully completed the first three two items on my checklist I was ready for a shampoo. I flicked on the radio ‘It’s nearly quarter to seven and time for the sports headlines, Manchester Unite…’ The presenter was droning on as I twisted the hot tap anticlockwise. There was an agonised gurgle or two, swiftly followed by some dull hammering under the bath, after a silent second of two water finally started stuttering out of the shower. Gingerly I placed my hand under the flow to test the temperature ‘och that’s not too bad’ I mumbled as the tepid water ran through my fingers.

I was fully lathered up with my ‘buy-one-get-one-free’ Tea Tree & Mint shower gel when the temperature started to rise ‘Oooh aah eyaaa jeeeesus fu-‘ I jumped out from under the flow ‘what the bloody hell?’ I hadn’t touched the taps, yet the temperature had risen sharply. Cautiously I stretched a finger into the path of the falling water, it seemed normal again ‘bloody boiler’ I grumbled before stepping back underneath.

I was happily exfoliating the skin on my baldy heid when winter arrived with a vengeance ‘Oooooh fuuuuckinhell’ I leapt back as a sheet of ice cold water gushed over me ‘w.w.w.what the ff.f.ffking hell!’ Hammering noises were emanating from under the bath and the shower head was vibrating ominously as I shivered in disbelief. Mouth hanging open at the sight of sleet pelting out of my shower I was finally roused from my trance when the shower head shook itself off it’s holder and started spraying the entire room with torrents of icy water ‘Aaaaaarrggh … fffkinb..strd’ I screamed while wrestling with the taps. Thirty seconds later all was quiet. Wet, but quiet.

‘Ok.k.k.kay H.h.h.h..aa.a.aam’ I whispered through rattling teeth ‘j..j..just s.s.ssstay .. ccc.calm’ I stepped out of the bath and wrapped a large towel round my midriff ‘n.n.nno ppp..oint in goi..nnng m m..mmental’, ‘cc..ccount to t..tt..ten’, ‘One ..tt.two ..three ..fouAARRGGHH!’ I ripped the shower out of the bath ‘AAARRGGHH’ the coiled up hose dangling like a severed spine. I ran through to the boiler cupboard and started thrashing the case of the boiler with the remains of the shower ‘You BAAAAASTARD!’ I screamed ‘What have I ever done to you’ I bellowed ‘I service you every year’ THUMP ‘You get the summer off from central heating’ CRASH ‘You only have to heat one shower a day!’ SKELP ‘Why do you taunt me so?’ WALLOP! ‘WHY?’ with one final blow the showerhead separated from the coil of hose I was clutching, ricocheted of the flue and caught me square between the eyes ‘WHYOOooomppfff’ No need for a standing eight count, it was a straight K.O.

Having destroyed my bathroom and boiler, this seemed as good a time as any to have a look at electric showers. After patching myself up I headed off to the local DIY store.

There’s quite a selection on offer it has to be said. Power showers, Tower showers, hydrotherapy cabins, Power Tower Multijet hydrotherapy sauna Spa Cabins and feck knows what else. It was a tad confusing. Reluctantly I realised I needed some advice so I set off in search of a sales assistant ‘Excuse me can you help me with-‘, ‘Sorry Pal I don’t work in the bathroom department’, ‘ok can you find me someone wh-‘ but he had stepped behind a shelf and disappeared. I spotted another orange clad employee arranging bathroom taps on a display stand nearby ‘Excuse me could you give me some advice on showers?’, ‘Sorry pal, I don’t work in the bathroom department’. I glanced at the bathroom accessories he was clutching in his hand ‘That’s a lawnmower then is it?’ I enquired ‘you could try that guy’ he replied, pointing behind me.

I should have known better, the second I turned my back to look I heard the clatter of metal on concrete. I spun back round and he was gone. He couldn’t have been out of my sight for more than a second yet he had also managed to disappear through the magic door to neverland ‘For pities sake’. I was getting angry now and when I spotted a glimmer of orange out the corner of my eye I decided to go for some affirmative action.

‘Right Laddy’ I growled, grabbing the unfortunate gentleman by his collar ‘I want to know all about yer showers’, ‘and’ I continued, pulling his face up to mine, ‘I dinnay care what department ye work in m’laddo’, ‘bu-‘, ‘I dinnay want any of yer shite!’, ‘but-‘, ‘nae disappearing act Mr Benn, spill the beans’. Dragging him across to the shower section I proceeded to interrogate him on the merits of all the different options. He was useless, he couldn’t answer the simplest question. ‘What do they teach you people?’ I bellowed slaping him across the face with a product catalogue ‘I dont-‘, ‘you don’t what?’, ‘Listen?’ slap ‘learn?’ slap ‘possess any cognitive abilities’ slap ‘care about your customers’ slap

‘No I don’t wor-‘ slap ‘Right you are sir, here’s the paint you were looking for, now what kind of wallpape-SWEET JESUS!’, ‘-k here’ I froze in mid-slap; my hand paused above my head. Quickly my eyes flicked between the member of staff in his orange apron, and the individual I had tethered to the shower stand in his orange football shirt. ‘Ah’ The real staff member was reaching for his radio, I can’t imagine he was going to be asking for a stock check on tap washers. Quickly I pointed over his shoulder ‘Look an Ostrich!’ I screamed before diving through the magic door.

I guess you must have to be a member of staff for it to operate correctly. Three hundred litres of satin emulsion tumbling on top of you also prevents any prospect of a getaway.

It’s not so bad inside, three square meals a day, Sky telly and the showers work, although I’ve learnt to just leave my soap if I drop it…..

Doei