Have you ever really wanted a shower? Really, really wanted? Felt so gross that you try not to move around too much for fear that, say, raising your arm a little bit is going to make the stranger next to you on the subway faint because of the toxins you will release?
The last time that happened to me was when I was on vacation in Rome. If you learn one thing from this column, that thing should be: don’t go to Rome in August. It is hot. HOT. And there is no air-conditioning. I was my own little constant, mobile sauna of sweaty disgustingness. Every shower felt so wonderful, like the water was produced by angels crying tears of joy. More