"Your bathroom just attacked me!" he said.
"Whaaaaa???" I replied.
He went on to explain that as he stood in the shower stall post-shower drying himself off, large chunks of ceiling started falling onto his head. Eeeeek! He had to shower again to wash his hair a second time, and, he said, as he was drying off the second time, more of the ceiling fell, but he dodged it all nimble like a ninja.
As it turns out, it wasn't like heavy chunks of ceiling/drywall falling on his head, but the popcorn ceiling paint peeling off and falling in big chunks. Now, this wasn't an entirely new issue in my bathroom, it's been peeling now and then for a couple of years, and I've just been unable to decide what color I want to repaint the room (and whether I want to completely renovate the entire bathroom). But the peeling's always been in the center of the room - this was the first time it started falling down into the shower.
Traveler diagnosed the problem, having done a lot of home (and bathroom) renovations in his time. Apparently, when my home was built about 13 years ago, the builders never bothered to prime the ceiling, they just slapped up the drywall and sprayed the popcorn ceilings directly on top. It's amazing the steam from the shower didn't peel off the popcorn ceilings a long long time ago.
So, in the next few minutes of conversation, Traveler said it would be no problem for us to tackle the rest of the ceiling and repaint the bathroom (and insisted he help me do it myself rather than me hiring a painter), and then we got into a lengthy discussion of all the remodeling I've been considering doing in there (ripping out a few walls, putting in new floors, vanity, and a completely new custom shower, among other things). He's full of ideas, and we agreed to discuss it in more detail later.
Well, later came late that night after a particularly rowdy bout of sex. Traveler jumped up from the bed to rinse off in the shower, and then remembered that he'd not cleaned up the fallen bits if ceiling from that morning...
...which is how I ended up with a naked man standing on a 6 foot ladder in my bathroom at one in the morning, scraping paint off the ceiling and into a waste bin.
It seemed entirely surreal, standing there in my bathrobe, staring up at his cute bare butt bouncing around up on the ladder as he stretched to scrape all the loose bits of paint down so there'd be no more falling on our heads. And then he cheerfully got down on his knees and swept up every last bit of paint before hopping in the shower and explaining to me how full of awesome we could make my master bath for far less money than I would have thought.
Yep, this one's a keeper.