If you own a jetted shower, then you are automically my best friend. Combined with a bitter sense of jealousy and simultaneous great admiration, I will show up at your door insisting that I know you. Don’t be alarmed; I am harmless. As an avid fan of jetted showers but a lesser fan of having a job, I have that unforunate dilemma of coveting without having the warrant to do so.
Many people may call me "homeless", "vagrant", "druggie" or just "scary troll man" but I personally prefer to go by the title "outdoor urban dweller". My rugged invidualist nature makes me very indepedent and in that staunch independence, I have taken it upon myself to visit as many people as I can to politely ask if I can use their premium jetted showers. In my experience, most people have refused. Actually, the 27 out of the 28 people I solicited just screamed and then closed the door on me. They swore I was a grizzly bear who had somehow learned how to walk on two legs and speak semi-coherently. The only one that said a cautious "yes" was a person who didn’t even own a cheap bathroom shower.
Why do I love jetted showers so much? I mean, sure, I may not have a home to even install one of these bad boys but I have managed to draw up a rather elaborate scheme for my future home on a few Big Mac wrappers taped together. It’s my "blueprint", if you will. Anyway, in this detailed plan, the jetted shower is the main attraction. I’ll have all of my other bathroom furniture genuflect under its greatness. Literally, it will be the largest structure in my home–inevitably causing great awe and amazement. People will be forced to go in and see the 6-hydrotherapeutic massage jet shower column, built-in radio, ozone sterilization system and tropical rain showerhead. If you’re good, I will even let you get in and use the shower. You see, as an involuntarily undomiciled guy, I am pro-equal treatment. Mi jetted shower es su jetted shower.
