It's not my fault the shower broke!

 There I was, facing a great moral dilemma: Do I tell someone the shower is still running?

Sure, it seems obvious now. How could I keep quiet? We're in the middle of a drought and, well, the shower was running, unchecked. At my new job.

But . . . I'm the new guy. And, how can someone be unable to turn off a shower? I could already hear Mrs. Brad laughing at me: "These kinds of things only happen to you!"

They don't.

I don't think they only happen to me, at least. I'm sure someone else has been unable to turn off the shower at my office, right?

Maybe not.

Let's go back to the start.

A few weeks ago, I started a new job in another city. One of the coolest things about the gig? It has a full gym and two modern shower rooms.

(I already hear the jokes: "A gym? How do you use a gym? Look at you!" Well, smarty pants, it has really nice benches and a big-screen TV!)

On the day in question, I completed my workout (seriously!), then hopped in the shower to avoid being the stinky, sweaty new guy.

When I finished, I turned the knob.

Water kept coming.

It is one of those ultra-modern showers, like the ones hotels often have these days – with multiple, concentric knobs to control water flow and temperature.

(Oh, for the days of hot-water and cold-water knobs, both of which turn off to the left!)

I tried the main knob again. Nothing. I turned the second knob. Nothing. The water kept coming.

I turned both of them all the way to the left. Water kept coming. Both to the right. Water got hotter.

How could this be happening? Especially to me?

I turned them both back to the left, got out and hoped the water would slow to a trickle.

It didn't.

What was I supposed to do? There are five floors in my building! Who do I even tell that the shower won't turn off? And how do I explain it in a way that prevents them from thinking I'm a moron who can't operate a shower?

I got dressed, hoping it would magically turn itself off. No luck.

I considered my plight.

Do I slink out and let someone else figure it out? Do I tell my boss, who will be shocked by my incompetence?

The water kept coming.

Fully clothed, I reached in and tried again. Nope. Just got my sleeve wet.

I walked upstairs toward my office . . . sweating enough to offset the value of the shower.

Magically, I ran into one of the guys who is in charge of all the extra stuff in the building (I'm pretty sure that's not a job title: Guy in charge of extra stuff). I told him the story, emphasizing that I'm not an idiot and (barely) avoiding the claim that I've successfully operated showers.

He graciously acted like it happened before and said he'd take care of it.

I slinked upstairs, hoping he'd keep it quiet, but knowing that he'd likely regale coworkers with the story of how the dopey new guy couldn't turn off the shower.

Then I sent an email to Mrs. Brad and told her.

She said she couldn't see her computer screen because she was laughing so hard. Then she pointed out that those kinds of things only happen to me.

They don't! Right?

Plenty of people can't turn off a shower!

Brad Stanhope is a former Daily Republic editor. Email him at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.