Visions of PSYCHO in the shower

I just nearly died in the shower. Seriously, I did.

On a quiet weekend morning, I climbed out of bed to enjoy a leisurely shower. I was pretty sure I had the whole house to myself.

OK, a couple of teens were sacked out in the other room, but it would take an Old Testament marvel to rouse them.

I was certain of this, as I’d sent them to bed just a few hours earlier.

So I grabbed the opportunity to take a non-rushed shower.

I snatched my shampoo and intense therapy comb-through hair conditioner. (Hey, I only bother with the more time-consuming products on down-time weekends.)

I fairly sighed, as I stood in the perfect temperature water, lathering up my locks and enjoying some peace and quiet.

And then it happened.

I heard a click. Or at least, I thought I did. Next, I heard a cupboard door slam.

What!?!

I nearly fainted. Startled, I struggled to stay on my feet.

With shampoo running into my eyes, I peered through the steamy shower door.

He was already gone.

Still, the bathroom door was now unlocked. And the towel hanging on a hook on the back of the door was still swinging.

The Boundaries-Don’t-Apply-to-Me-Bandit had come and gone.

I resumed my shower, switched off the spigot, and wrapped in my towel. Stepping from the shower, I peeked into his bathroom cupboard. His toiletries kit was gone.

Hitchcock never dreamed up anything so stressful. It may not have been a stranger, but it was most definitely an intruder.

Image/s:

Movie Stills

From PSYCHO (1960)

Fair use

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