"At my age I feel fortunate to be experiencing regular, daily bowel movements; not always an enjoyable feat first thing in the morning, but then I can enjoy my first cup of coffee," sixty-three year old Sam Spade pondered the moment he awoke.
As he looked into the mirror, no longer was youth on his side. The razor, quite dull, left several fresh cuts. No more than a dozen sheets of toilet paper left. Mental note– buy razor blades and toilet paper. Later that night Sam remembered as he used another tissue to wipe off his penis from leakage.
The shower faucet squealed as he pulled back the shower curtain and stepped inside. Even the ice cold water didn't affect his aging body.
The linoleum hadn't been waxed since the night before Thanksgiving as Sam anticipated that his children might stop in for a brief moment. Children. Two that he knew of. Both conceived with his first wife Helen. Second wife didn't want any. Helen, the first wife, became wife number three because of the children. "They need a father." Five years later Helen agreed that the children didn't need a father. Sharon was wife number four. Thank God no children with that woman, child support would've brought suicide one step closer. Sam didn't bother to file for divorce with the fifth wife. In the eyes of the law they where still legally married even if Sam hadn't heard from her since the day she left his sorry ass.
This isn't a hook.
I think it's a first page.
And it opens with toilet stuff...always a plus for deciding whether to read on.