An Awkward Story.

Once upon a Saturday, I had an excellent day working with my wicked awesome hippie dude boss and locked up shop around 8, walked the lovely (freezing) streets of downtown Ashland and eventually made my way back to the current room I sleep in. Allow me to explain: there is a small alleyway that spits out into the homeowner's backyard and I have to walk across the back windows of the home to reach the room door. With that being said, I've never met the husband of the relationship in the house attached to this room.
After my relaxing and enjoyable dinner (salad, tomato soup, pepperjack grilled cheese), I thought to myself, what would be better than a nice hot shower to de-grease my gnarly locks? So, I wrap a pink towel around my waist and endeavor to politely ask the male of the household if it would be alright that I took a quick shower. The conversation went really poorly. I peeked my head around the corner into the living room and the male seemed really irritated and told me that it was 'rather late.' I apologized at least three times within the short bit of time I had and sulked back to the room.
Also, you should know that Randy, with whom I'm staying, is at his mum's house--but, before he left he assured me that it would be alright to shower. I'm feeling terribly rude and uncomfortable. : (
Also, also, (which is like P.S.) I think their marriage is on the rocks. He stayed home alone for Thanksgiving without wife and child. None of my business. Shit. I suppose that I generally live in a dreamland where I assume that everyone along my journey will greet me with a smile and accept the strange girl in a pink towel that barges into their living room at 9:30 in the evening...bloody hell.