Fragment #21 - Shower

I'm standing in the shower under the stream of water looking down at the seven little birthmarks on my chest, I was playing join the dots again last night with a Biro so I'm covered in lines. I hear the phone starting to ring. I ignore it for a few minutes but for some reason the person on the other end is not giving in. So I grab a towel and hastily wrap it round my waist and run through to the phone.
“Hello?” I say in the most harassed tone I can manage.
Imagine you are having a dinner party. The guest list contains; the Queen, your Mum, your Granny, the Pope, the Prime Minister, the President of the United States and your boss. You want this night to go perfectly so the heat is on. Now imagine that dirty old man from the pub who wears that long coat with suspect stains who insists on you calling him Uncle Monty staggering into the room blind drunk only wearing a pair of soiled yellowish green Y-fronts. He clambers up on to the table, squats down knocking over the candle sticks and does a huge steaming brown turd in the middle of the table. He then flops down off the table and passes out in the doorway with his underpants still round his ankles spewing out acrid smelling rainbow coloured vomit from his half closed mouth and nostrils. Imagine how that would make you feel. This is something like how I feel when I hear my father on the other end.