Maybe it was allergies. Maybe it is some form of exotic malady I'm fighting off. For whatever reason, I felt the need to soak in warm water for a period of time and relax, then shower.
I filled the tub to an acceptable level. That's about roughly 4 inches below the top of the tub - I'm aware of Archimedes Principle.
As I hopped in the first sign of idiocy hit me. The overflow drain kicked in as soon as I got in. Now, before you think I'm some Goliath of a human being - I admit, I have pounds that I'd gladly send to a hungry family somewhere - I'm 5'3" and weigh in the high 160s. Maybe mid 170s, but this is fiction, so what do you care. I have big bones. Get over it. The point is, I'm not huge. In a device designed to allow people of average height and size (read: larger than myself), I should not get in and have the overflow drain kick in. So I decided to see how else it didn't fit my dimensions, much to the amusement of the supervising dog.
I sat up straight, and my feet touched the other end of the tub. Clearly, this tub was designed for people smaller than myself to luxuriate in. I flipped over, verifying - bending my knees and stretching my length out so I could get my face in the water. I barely got to do that. By this time, the overflow drain plug had stopped, so I flipped back over and pressed my size 8 1/2 feet to the other end where my toes were completely out of the water.
This bathtub was not designed for humans. It was designed for something else. And thus, I pen the unofficial story.
Our story starts with someone who wanted to kill kittens - by drowning. So they created this device, but were worried about children drowning when using the device. Her attorney (what, it can't be a her?) told her that she might get sued if a child drown while drowning kittens, so she put in an overflow drain as a safety device.
She patented it through her attorney, then had a few built to show off. She showed it to a person in marketing, and the marketing lady said, "Hey. This is a great solution for apartment and hotel bathtubs!"
The inventor grimaces. "That's not what it's made for. It's for drowning kittens!"
The marketing person grimaces, but goes out and does marketing studies with focus groups and comes back with results that the inventor/engineer cannot dispute. People like kittens. In fact, they like kittens so much they built an Internet around them. Bathing, on the other hand, was a luxurious idea that everyone wanted available though few would actually use. "We'll throw a shower on top", she said, "And you'll make money hand over fist!"
The inventor/engineer unhappily agreed. The marketer went out and wrote a brilliant ad, telling people how nice it would be to soak in water after a hard day. Women were clamoring for a nice way to sit while shaving legs (I think. I don't know much about it). Men were clamoring because women were clamoring because, for some reason, shaved legs were great but stubbly legs were evil.
And that's the story of the bathtub. Designed for drowning kittens, sold as a device to immerse yourself in while getting clean in dirty water, it did nothing but... make money for an engineer that wouldn't stick to her guns and a marketer who didn't really care if you could fit in the bathtub with more than a thimble full of water.
As I said, if this sounds like anything else, that's on you. This is the unofficial story of my bathtub.