If my co-ordination begins to falter, I will know that years of sex, drugs, rock and roll and football have finally taken their toll and step more carefully. If I get my foot stuck during either manoevre, fall over and crack my skull on the bath, the warning will have arrived too suddenly and too late.
Both rituals are working fine and assure me of my physical condition but I still decided to take extra precautions because bathrooms can be dangerous places.
There you are, naked without the protection of clothing, shoes or hard-hat, standing in a cast iron container with a slippy bottom. I mean the bath. One wrong move could mean disaster. And, let's be honest, I'm not as young as I used to be.
So I bought a rubber-suctioned hand grip to help getting in and out. It fits on the tiles and looks a bit like a phone and I keep getting the urge to ring the curry shop for a take-away at unexpected moments of solitude. Amazon, I find, is best for such bathroom accessories for those getting on a bit. You can buy them anonymously on-line without a store assistant nodding in silent agreement that, yes, you're passed it.
I made the mistake of mentioning I had bought the hand grip down at the club, which caused everyone amusement rather than sympathy or praise at my foresight. Rag laughed and said: “You'll be getting one of those rubber grip things, next, to put round the tops of jars to open them.”
Already got one,” I said. “I can't grip because of repetitive strain injury. Years of working on a keyboard have taken their toll.” Keyboard meaning typewriter and computer; I never had the urge to be Elton John.
This did not impress chaps with proper jobs in engineering, roofing, building and decorating. I dare not tell them that I now have my eye on an extra long suction rubber mat with cosy bubble foot-grip to further ensure safety in the bath.
Perhaps I really am getting old?