I did so you don’t have to, Vol. 1.: Jellybath
My first encounter with jellybath was on one boozy night last year at my girlfriend’s place. The circumstances under which she came into possession of the bath gel I don’t fully understand, and are still mysterious to me. Nonetheless, when asked if I wanted to soak my feet, I took the opportunity, as I don’t think I’ve ever taken time to just sit and… well, soak. When a box of the stuff was discovered whilst unpacking our new apartment, the other night, it was met with both excitement and horror. To say that jellybath is gross is like saying that licking a subway door is gross. Anyone that’s ever had a slurpee/slushy from 7-11 knows what the texture and feel of jellybath is. However, when slushee gets hot it melts and looses texture. The hard part to get your head around is that this particular slushy is 102 degrees and that you soak in it. My feet were one thing, my entire body was another.
Fill up the tub, poor in the packet, stir. Yes, stir. Like a cauldron. If you dump the contents of the packet in one spot, it will form a dense, slushy mass in the middle of the tub. So stir that shit, light a candle, put on some music, sink into your slush tub and just soak away the day’s troubles while trying not to lose your mind. Granted, the jellybath is hot as hell and is certainly a nice little treat, the same as any bath, but it is just too hard to get over the fact that you’re sitting in translucent goo. Upon standing (by the way, don’t try standing) little globules stick to you and then fall off, plopping back into the tub. Toweling off causes the goo to dry, ball up, and fall to the ground, all over your bathroom to forever gather dust, dirt and hair, and grow into sick snot I’m sure I’ll find until the day I leave my apartment.
What initially tipped me off to the fact that this luxurious product was not intended for people like myself is the lack of warnings on the box. It seems to me that the makers of jellybath didn’t really imagine it being put to use in the tub of a 30 sq. ft. bathroom in a one bedroom apartment. Filling your tub with jelly is every young soul’s dream, to be sure, but what it also sounds like is a lawsuit waiting to happen. I can imagine the sorts of complaints they get on the jellybath hotline on a daily basis, from folks who were hasty with reading the box or examining its contents. There are two packets in the box. One ominously reads “DISSOLVER PACKET” and the other “Jellybath – EXTREMELY SLIPPERY.”
Extremely slippery, indeed. A note on the slipperiness of jelly bath:
jelly bath grossness : licking subway :: jellybath slipperiness : sock feet on pledged hardwood
Now I imagine that a lot of complaints on the jellybath hotline are regarding the aforementioned “DISSOLVER PACKET”. To say that this is a key ingredient in the jellybath ritual is an understatement. Pulling the plug on a tub full of un-meltable slush has implications which go far beyond the moral issues one might have with the jellybath itself, and delves into matters of plumbing, eviction and felony vandalism. I’d be curious to see what happens when trying to drain a tub full of the stuff. Would it just back up right in your bath leaving you with a permanent jelly tub? Or would it make its way into the inner workings of your building’s plumbing causing much more damage to whatever or wherever all the water goes? I don’t know, I can only speculate on the importance of the dissolver packet, but the fact is that it turns your jelly water into regular bath water like freaking magic. No jelly trace at all.
According to the website, Jellybath stays warm 4 times longer than regular old water. Therefore, the natural sensation that occurs when the water turns cold, telling you to get out, doesn’t hit for about 4 times as long. What’s interesting, about this, is that on the warning-scant box they do tell you to drink 8 ounces of water for every 20 minutes you’re in the bath, past the first 20 minutes. Jesus, what of dehydration in the jellybath?! Imagine becoming so weak that, no matter how hard you try, your prune-like, slippery feet and hands cannot physically grip the porcelain. The more you struggle, the weaker you become. The heat overwhelming, your mouth dry as you begin to drink the jelly water- DON’T DRINK THE JELLY WATER! But you do so, out of insanity brought on by thirst and panic. You lose consciousness, and slide under the water, into the warm slush, and you sleep peaceful sleep. Weeks go by, and the water evaporates, leaving your raisin-like corpse perfectly encapsulated in a tub of hardened jelly.
The paramedics have seen it a dozen times and aren’t phased by scooping away the now plastic-like jelly to pull you out.
Bottom line: If you’re looking for something to do in the bath that goes against the good laws of nature and physics try this: