We’re on the road in Kansas. I only have diarrhea a little bit, so that’s certainly worth noting. We’ll only be listening to the cat complain for about eight hours if all goes well. You can probably hear him now. Meow. Meow. Meow.
Anyway, I’ve noticed that hotels don’t seem to understand how to make bathrooms. Small or large, they seem to pick up their plumbing from an oriental trading post traveling on the back of a dragon in the 12th century. It’s not just that the shower heads are installed about five feet off the ground so that 90% of all men are uncomfortable using them. It’s that turning on the water requires a degree in anthropology and advanced Newtonian physics. Seriously, has anyone ever walked into a hotel bathroom and said, “I have this same setup at home!”
So to turn on the shower you have to adjust a series of pulleys and gears, pull a lever like on an old steamboat, and hope you don’t get scalded and fall through the door (which you will need to open if you want enough room to get something out of your pockets).
And the crazy thing is, they’re all like that. The only thing harder to figure out than a hotel bathroom is a hotel alarm clock. Don’t get me started on that.
Anyway, we just passed some more cows and everyone is all excited, so I think I’ll stop now.