I stepped into the shower full of excitement, because this would be no normal shower. I was convinced that I would step out of it a changed woman, with a new outlook on life and perhaps a glowing complexion. For three days, I had been dead-set on trying the new “shower orange” craze. I had made a cut into the orange (I have the worst time with peeling them) and even brought in a cup to put the peels in. I had tied up my hair, not wanting to be distracted from my orange eating mission. The air was humid and the orange I held in my hands felt full of juicy potential. Those are, I’ve been told, the optimal conditions for the shower orange experience. I tore open the peel, pulled out a slice and…

Was horribly disappointed. Desperate, I kept going, confident that the extreme sensory experience would kick in soon. Slice after slice, and I felt nothing. It was worse than being underwhelmed. Is “unwhelmed” a word? Because I felt completely unwhelmed.

I raved about how excited I was for this all weekend, since I heard people talking about it in my first period class on Friday. I immediately texted my mom to please pick up an orange the next time she was at the grocery store, because I wanted to eat it in the shower. She responded with one word, “gross.”

I was offended by her skepticism, but my pre-shower-orange-self was too excited to care about germs. My post-shower-orange-self is a little disgusted that I combined food and the bathroom.

The difference between my pre and post shower incarnations aren’t because it was such a life changing experience, but because it was such a disappointing one. It just tasted like an orange! I might as well have been sitting at the kitchen table, except I had no clothes on and it was considerably more humid. Did I not do this right? The instructions were simple enough:

Step 1: Run a hot shower.

Step 2: Peel an orange.

Step 3: Eat an orange.

Step 4: Revel in your mind blowing, life changing experience.

Where did I go wrong? Did I hype myself up too much? Was my orange genetically modified for the sole purpose of robbing me of an enjoyable shower orange experience? I want answers.

That all being said, I didn’t hate the experience. In fact, there were a couple of upsides.

For starters, people who know me know that I love snacks. I’ll pull out a bag of almonds during a passing period or a couple of fruit strips during the intermission of a show. The aspect of the shower orange that I can really get behind is the snacking part. Is it enhanced snacking? Not really. I’d file it under novelty snacking. And in the grand scheme of messy fruits, oranges place third, (behind watermelon and pomegranates) which is a scientific fact. Eating one under running water reduces the mess, which is a bonus. Not to mention, you get a good dose of Vitamin C. But two of the three things I just said can be done fully clothed, outside of the shower.

Do I recommend the shower orange? It gave me the illusion of doing something wild and ended up being ridiculously mediocre, but I didn’t have too bad a time. It’s definitely worth a shot, but not worth raving over.