Is it just me? Or does EVERYBODY think of Stephen King in the shower?

...ya know? I thought it was disturbing that I "think of Stephen King" while lathered up. **Now**-- after reading all your replies, I'm more than a little less disturbed with myself-- I'm now disturbed with the company I keep. ...and a little bit thrilled. You people are a flock of dirty birdies-- just like me!

[I'm seriously worried about Tsuki & Ray... One I refuse to leave alone with my loofa and the other one will never know where I stash my towel-- and Kentuk-- I admit it-- I've no defense on the matter... Yes... I'm seriously disturbed...]

I think my strange "Bathtub Fascination" with King stems from the time I was trapped in his driveway (by no fault of my own-- I SWEAR-- blame it on my kid!).

You see, my younger son was once a marine mechanic in Florida. One day he crossed the road to eat at a water-side cafe with a co-worker, and they saw (in my then 22 yr old son's words) "Some old guy walking with a cane, like he was wore out or sumpin'" going into the open-air cafe. Since it was lunch time, my son, being a generous guy (hey-- first **I** heard of THIS behavior!), offered to buy the "old man" a hot dog. They got to talking and when the "old man" got up to leave, "Generous Son" offered him a ride back home. "Old Man" accepted.


When they reached the "old man's" house, it turned out to be a multi-million dollar mansion. My son looks the outside front over and says: "Wow. Great house! What do you do for a living?"

"Old Man" says: "Oh, I'm in oil."


(Generous Son took his Mom for a drive through the mansion community, while telling me the "hot dog" story, but failed to mention we were at the end of the road... with not quite room to turn around... THEN HE TOLD ME WHOSE DRIVEWAY I WAS STUCK IN!!!!! )


It *would* have been nice to have... oh... a minute or so to "enjoy" being so close to one of my favorite writers... but all I could think of was: *When* is King gonna release the blood-thirsty Hounds of Hell on my ass??? So, after molesting the neighbor's garbage cans (which *might* have been worth more than my car!!), I beat a hasty retreat down the road and out of that community, which I had no business being in, anyway.

The next day, my "home-grown" marine mechanic commandeers a pontoon boat from work and takes me & his father on a ride on the "inter-coastal". We're drooling over the water-side mansions, when he points and says: "King's house!" And I burst out laughing. From the rear, he's completely protected by mangroves (made me feel a little better about his safety), and the back looked NOTHING like the front. From the back, the "multi-million dollar mansion" looks like a mobile home. A three-story, nothing but glass-- mobile home. So... I've got this photo of a "multi-million dollar trailer", and THAT'S probably why I connect "water" with "King" in my head.

[Please note-- seriously-- to protect King, I've not named the town or location of said "trailer"-- and the photo is only recognizable by me-- too many mangroves]