The Epic Saga of the Shower Curtain Rod
As with all epic sagas, the legendary tale of our quest for a shower curtain and rod must begin with an invocation of the muse, and so, with apologies to Homer and Milton . . .
Sing to me of the couple, O Muse, the wandering pair of twists and turns, driven time and again off course down narrow cobble-stoned Gasses, Straßes, and Bahns, for once they had tried to bathe their bodies in a curtainless tub and then flooded the hallowed floor of their bathroom. Sing unto me of their desire for that forbidden fruit of affordable plastic whose acquisition would restore them to the blissful state of comfortable bathing. Sing, heavenly Muse . . .
Seriously, who would have thought finding a cheap shower curtain and rod would be so necessary . . . and so difficult?!? Necessary, you say? We discovered conclusively and quickly that, since our bathing facilities had a moveable showerhead but no curtain, the potential for watery messes was great unless we confined ourselves to taking baths. Since we’ve grown fond of showers over the last 40+ years, and since one of us doesn’t fit as tidily into the tub as the other, the only solution was to purchase a shower curtain and rod. A simple enough task, to be sure, but once the quest began, new factors came into play – namely, expense. With only a minimal amount of wandering about, we located a department store not too far from our apartment that sold shower curtains, shower rods, and even the necessary rings. The problem was that even the most inexpensive combination of these things would set us back over 40 Euros (over $50). Yikes! This was especially hard to rationalize because this is really just a temporary thing. I mean, we didn’t plan on taking this stuff home with us as souvenirs.
We figured though that, surely somewhere within walking / tram distance in this city of 1.5 million people, a person should be able to find a cheap shower set-up, right? After all, what do immigrants and refugees do when they come to this city and need to equip their living spaces? Well, after miles and miles of walking, and dozens of stores visited, we finally figured it out: Happy Markt -- the Viennese equivalent of the Dollar Store.
Note how, full of the knowledge that cheap bathroom accoutrements are passionately sought by many, (but attained by few), the shop owner prominently displayed that which was The Grail.
Note the look of elation on the seeker’s face as he basks in The Grail’s radiant glow.
Note the noble aspect with which the successful sojourner raises the object of his obsession as he strides triumphantly into his courtyard.
Note the look of strength, pride and sweet anticipation etched on the hero’s countenance as he sanctifies his abode with the precious rod, curtain, and rings.
