I hate bloody showers. Bathtubs do what you want them to, within reason. Showers ambush you. The only times I use them is if I'm staying in a place where there isn't a bath, and then only if I can't sneak down to breakfast without.

Drop clothes on floor.
Squeeze into shower, paddling in freezing water.
Adjust controls, and switch on.
Leap out screaming as icy water explodes out in various directions.
Squeeze back in.
Adjust controls again carefully, and switch on.
Leap out screaming and scalded.
Reach in and switch off water.
Dry self ineffectively on towel the size of face cloth.
Clamber back into wet clothes - on which have been standing and dripping.
Squelch off to get breakfast, which has just finished.
Sulk.

This time hallowed ritual is observed by both male and female. Apart from the clothes on the floor, which is primarily male. (Female equivalent has the clothes balanced on the top of the shower copartment, and falling in at climactic moment.)

I hate bloody showers.