RANDOM REMINDER

Press, Issue 31095, 25 June 1966, Page 42

RANDOM REMINDER

ONE MAN AND HIS TUB

Because he was educated at one of those boarding schools where the soap, coming in distinctly unromantic odours, was stringently controlled, and bath night was organised on a strict roster system, he now, in his twenties, rather likes to 101 l about in the steamy tub.

He lives in a flat by himself, which allows him to take liberties with time, a privilege denied those knee deep in domestic bliss. And the period spent in the bath has become more and more important to him, a rainbow in the stormy sky of the day’s work, an oasis in a desert of drudgery. There is more than a suspicion that he has a few additives in his bath water —no champagne, no asses’ milk, but some of the deep

froth in which beautiful young Hollywood starlets are sometimes photographed, looking suitably startled, although he does not look at all like a Hollywood starlet. The fact remains that he loves his bath. He denies hotly the suggestion that the cupboards in his tastefully decorated bathroom

contain fleets of model warships, but he does admit to

taking it easy in there, with the water up to the rim, a gin and tonic on one side, a book and cigarette in hand. All of which explains how irritating it was for him to have to get out of the bath to answer the telephone, and perhaps sink a couple of aircraft carriers on the way out, before dripping water all over the flat. And as soon as he got back in the bath, the telephone was certain to call him out again,, as

if it had some malevolent will of its own.

Two months ago, he managed to make the necessary arrangements, and the telephone is now within easy reach as he soaks there in the suds. But he hasn't had to answer it there, not once. He has discovered that coming fully dressed from a warm fire seems to give the bathroom a distinct chill It is not, in fact, the most satisfactory place in which to conduct a conversation. Which, of course, persuades, him It is more and more sensible to spend more and more time in the bath. He reports that there is now very little fear of him sharing the dreadful fate of H. Allen Smith, who complained that inability to take a bath because of an attack of impetigo had caused him to smell like an old gymnasium.