Making a Splash

Years ago, my friend Derek encountered his first washlet in a Japanese hotel. An inveterate technophile, he just had to take it for a ride. But with a bewildering array of inscrutably marked buttons, he found it much harder to turn off than on, and it was not the soothing experience he'd hoped for. By contrast, my basic model is quite simple if you ignore the various adjustments: just "front" (for the ladies), "rear," and the all-important "stop." Helpful icons show you what to expect.

Derek sent me this ad the other day, saying I was the only person he knew who'd appreciate it. I think he was wrong -- not that I'd like it, but that others wouldn't.



I had a remarkably similar experience this morning, when I innocently pushed "rear" and was hit with a blast so powerful it almost knocked me off the seat. Clamping down with white knuckles, I glanced over and saw that the pressure had been turned up to the red zone. The cleaning woman hadn't been here, which left only one culprit: Dan.

He's built an impressive gaslighting repertoire lo these many years, but this ranks among his most creative efforts. A literal reminder to watch my ass around him.