Charm City Shower.

Amenities.

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Every woman's collective nightmare came true for me in your shower, KS.

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Your bathtub is much taller than mine, and I immediately hit my shin trying to get into it.

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You have one bottle of two-in-one shampoo/ conditioner, one bottle of shower gel, and no loofahs or washcloths. I know you don't have hair like I have hair, so you don't really "get" conditioner; I'm sorry to tell you that it's just not in there. I knew that once I washed my hair, it would immediately cling to itself, forming some sort of steel wool nest on top of my head. It did.

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The fun really began once I turned the water on, which is why you heard me laughing, alone, in your bathroom. There was no shortage of hot water, but I had to take a cold shower to dull the pain. Your shower head spews about six individual jets of water, each with the force of a BB gun. It actually feels a little like getting a tattoo. I couldn't face forward because I thought my nipples were going to come off, so I had to extend my leg behind me and blindly turn the water off.

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You have no bathmat, and I thought about how humiliating it would be to knock myself unconscious while goose stepping out of your tall bathtub. You would find me on the floor with bloody nipples and assume the worst of me. I would have ruined your new towel. Your mind would be made up by the time I was lucid enough to explain.

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Or, I would just bleed to death, thinking about how I wish I could buy you a mildew-free shower curtain, wishing I'd had the foresight to bring my own conditioner and loofah because now the mortician is going to give me split ends, and the last time my family sees me, I'm going to smell like Axe.