I just grabbed a quick shower, and, while I was humming myself a happy little ditty and lathering (and rinsing and repeating), I thought I saw a person's shadow move on the outside of the shower curtain. Now, since I live alone at present, you can imagine the "High Alert" this put me on.
My heart not just "leaped to my mouth" as the horror writers say - it actually jumped from my body altogether, skittered across the floor with a wet sound, and then tried to use its disconnected valves and pipes to make it to the phone to dial 911.
Well, it turns out that the shadowy figure must have been some sort of illusion created by the shower curtain, because there was no one there when I got the gumption to look. But the point is this: When I was frightened, I did not think "burglar" or even "rapist", which should have been my primary worries. Instead, I really do think I had "slasher dressed as his mother" in my head, and I think I even heard the music.
Movies can control the mind - even in moments where one is not even thinking of them consciously. And I don't think it's just me - why else is there so little need to even give the title of the film I am referencing?
9 comments:
Given you are in Canada, I'd imagine the worst the slasher would do is apologize for having stumbled into the wrong apartment.
Or, perhaps if the so-called slasher was truly evil, all he would do is flush the toilet while you showered.
Quite the sugar-coated view of Canada, I must say. I guess the tourism bureau has done a good job in the US.
Sometimes I think Michael Moore is the Canadian tourism bureau in the US.
Yet, oddly enough, even Canadians lock their doors now when we see Michael Moore coming...
Yeah, people in the States have been locking their doors at the sight of him for years and years.
Sadly, Burger King has never shut him out.
Ewwww, I hope the slasher wasn't, in fact, Michael Moore. I'd almost hope it was Norman Bates.
Norman Bates, Michael Moore... as long as it wasn't Charleton Heston, I'd be appeased.
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