Anger Not the Water Gods

Submitted by Erin:

Walter was an old friend of mine from elementary school and beyond.  In high school, we had connected through a mutual love of music.

We hadn't hung out much in recent years, but he contacted me online to ask if I wanted to have a date on a forthcoming Friday night.  He asked if I wanted to do dinner with him and listen to some new albums.  He also said that he was working on his own music, and I told him that I'd be happy to listen to it.

I went to his house that Friday night, and he invited me inside.  We sat down, listened to a couple of metal songs off of an album, and then he plugged in his amp and went to work.

He had a unique sound (although his songs all sounded a bit similar, and he was a much better lyricist than songwriter) and it was nice to listen to him, overall.  He looked and sounded good.

After a little bit, I asked him when he wanted to do dinner.  He told me to wait a bit and ran out of the room.  He didn't come back for about fifteen minutes, and when he did, he tossed a Chinese take-out container at me, a little too hard and fast.

I caught it, but it opened and gooey noodles flew everywhere.  Brown sauce stained my outfit, and Walter just stood and watched as I mopped it off of myself and left the room to find some water.

While I was in the bathroom, dabbing my shirt clean, I smelled something funny, like gingerbread but with a side touch of rancid mold.

I opened the toilet.  Nothing in there.  I looked behind the shower curtain.  A multi-colored mound of wax sat in the tub, a little over knee-high, as if dozens and dozens of candles had been burnt over the course of weeks.  On the top of the pile, a new candle was freshly lit.

I returned from the bathroom to ask Walter about it.

He replied, "It's part of my religious observances.  I haven't used the shower in a month.  I'm giving thanks to water."

I asked him, "Then where have you bathed?"

He said, "I haven't.  For a month."

I pressed, "How does not taking a shower for a month show that you're thankful for water?"

He said, "It just does.  We don't have any Chinese left.  Want a hot pocket?"

I didn't.  Then he asked me if I wanted to watch a movie.  We had been friends for a while, so I said that I'd stick around, but there was no way I was going to let him put his hands anywhere near me.  He didn't try anything during the film, but he did keep inching closer, to which I responded by inching away.  I think he took the hint.

After the movie, I told him that I had to go.  On his doorstep, I said goodbye, and he gave my right cheek a wet lick.

I pulled away, said goodnight, and left.  That was our only date.