Showers cure hangovers

The night comes back to you in flashbacks, blurry fragments like the droplets of water on the plastic shower door. You're sitting in the corner, naked, with the hose over your head, hopeful that everything undesired will wash off. You scrub and scrub and scrub until you smell so good you can no longer smell your alcohol breath.

You remember to take a deep breath. You remember to close your eyes. You feel comfortable. Your skin is so clean that it is 

rubbery. Finally, you have strength enough to stand on tiptoes and put the shower head back in place. 

Your feet greet the soft, damp mat and you reach for the towel on the radiator, letting the warmth circulate over your clean rubber skin.

You wipe off the steam, and there it is: a reflection. Everyone is always different from the next--always. 

You open the window and let that steam escape into the freezing night air. 

An hour later you find an odd sock, and another one. Which shoes? Blue shoes, comfortable shoes. The horns on the radio egg you on: come on, one more. One more night of foolish decisions and drunken wonder, as you'll walk home and refuse to think of tomorrow.