The other day I was just about to leave the restroom, when I was suddenly incapacitated by some horrifically painful foreign object that found its way into my eye. No amount of rinsing or searching seemed to help. I soon became a pitiable sight, with one red eye with water and tears turned black with my mascara smeared all over my face. It was awful. Many a girl looked at me sympathetically before going about her merry life.
As it turns out, the restroom in this hostel is co-ed, something I have never had to deal with before. One young man had apparently become quite comfortable with the idea, and entered the bathroom in only his briefs. As he washed his hands next to me, he again gave me a look of sincere sympathy, but unlike all the fully clothed people that pitied me in the bathroom that day, he insisted on helping me. Part of me wanted to run away, part of me wanted to be scandalized by the company I was keeping. Part of me wanted to hold on to Provo me, rejecting the idea the Europe has desensitized me. But I was in no position to deny help. The searing pain in my left eye threatened to undo all the good that LASIK has done for me, so I consented. Besides, I was half blind at the moment anyway.
When we saw eachother in the restroom this morning he was again in his briefs, and greeted me warmly.
Oh, hostel life.
0 comments:
Post a Comment