And she scrubbed her back with a long-handled brush
A sticky note from Philip K. Dick's In Milton Lumky Territory:
The roar of water kept either of them from talking for some time. She had put bubble bath into the water, and it foamed up in massive pink layers as she waited for the tub to fill. At last there was enough water in the tub. He marvelled at the amount of water she needed. And she did not want it as hot as it was; she carefully switched on the cold until a good deal of the suds had been damaged. The whole affair struck him as inefficient, but he said nothing. He sat out of her path, a spectator.
In the tub, she laid back resting her head on the porcelain side. Suds covered her.
"Like a French movie," he said.
"Now you see, I never would have thought of that," she said.
"You should have gotten in while it was filling."
"Oh really? I always wait. I'm afraid I'll get burned."
"Can't you work the taps with your toes?"
"Oh my God, what a morbid idea. How bizarre. Like a monkey."
All his adult life, while bathing, he'd operated the taps with his toes, getting in as soon as there was enough water to cover him. Just enough so he did not come in contact with the bare porcelain.
"There's one difference between men and women," he said.
"If that's what you do, keep it to yourself." Her hair had been tucked into a plastic cap, and that, too, was different. And she scrubbed her back with a long-handled brush, and her nails with a small nylon brush. Amazing, he thought. So many differences in such a simple act as bathing.
For half an hour, she remained in the tub, soaking. He had never stayed in for more than a few minutes. When the water got cold, he always hopped out. But she simply sat up, turned the hot water back on, and ran enough of it to warm the tub.
"You're not afraid now," he said. "Of getting burned."
She looked at him blankly.