Back on the 101
Yesterday I asked the House Keeper if it would be OK for me to do a brief wash of all my clothing, as it was utterly fetid, and she was fine with it. Once I returned from my morning walking through Clifton, Hotwells, Bristol Docks and Wapping I went upstairs and got all my clothes ready to wash and put the large towel I'd been given around my nether regions. Then I went downstairs to speak to her again to let me know when the wash she was doing would be finished so I could come down and wash everything. At this moment her 'partner', a man dressed only in denim knee length shorts, told me I couldn't walk around in just a towel: at first I thought he was being sarcastic, but slightly later, when he came upstairs to use the toilet, he re-enforced this by seeming to threaten me that if I left my room in only a towel he'd 'do something'. With an aging body covered in wrinkled tattoos he spoke daggers and I could clearly tell he was in no way sarcastic. But I didn...