If you're out of town or spending the night at a friend's or some such, the shower predicament becomes real. And a solid 50 percent of the time it's no problem at all. But only 50 percent of the time. So if you're sitting there thinking, "Every shower I have ever taken was refreshing and crisp and I have well-coiffed pubes at all times," then good for you, mister. Why don't you go model some fuckin' Diesel jeans?
I can't even afford a stock photo of Diesel Jeans.
The rest of us have had that trepidatious moment when we find ourselves in the shower of, say, the parents of the person we're seeing now. Maybe it's the holidays and this is your first time meeting them in person, and now you're naked and cold in their bathroom and their faucet looks like it was designed by NASA and there's more than one shower head and at least one knob on the wall that you've literally never seen in a bathroom before. But here you are, naked and in the stall, and you don't want to be the moron who asks for help bathing, because you don't live in an institution and all of us are supposed to know how to do this by the time we're about 5 or 6.
So you stare at the assorted knobs and such for a moment and rely on history to guide you. Left is hot and right is cold. Only that's never, ever true if you're in a place with unlabeled faucets. Why? Because plumbers hate us, I assume. But the moment you think you can attain warm water with ease is the moment you scald your genitals like a German man on holiday in Amsterdam.
Wish you were here!