When Lunks Don’t Know Their Locker Room Limits
We’re going into MOM Mode tonight people. Get your sensory faculties screwed in tight! But before we dive into the pit, I need you to do something.
Imagine you’ve got a fist full of cold, wet lotion seeping down your knuckles. Now rub your hands together furiously. Is it making a slippery, slimy, sick sound? You know, like a homeless man smacking on a meat sandwich? Good…good! Keep that. We’re going to need that for later.
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Marshall and I have been denied affordable health coverage from Blue Cross Blue Shield. The form we were mailed back says that our combined BMI makes us uninsurable, meaning we will have to continue to shell out $600 a month for health benefits on our current draconian plan. Fortunately, I had already made the decision to lose weight this year, not for cheaper health coverage, but because there are certain things a woman is compelled to do before the end of her 35th year of life. (Having a baby and obtaining her optimal weight are among these.)
I’ve had all the kids I will ever birth, and now all that is left to do is embark on a quest to get my 25 year old body back, hopeless as that mission may be. All the same, I go to the gym daily and work out diligently.
Most days, I work out without incident. The main gym is populated with normal people – average Joe’s and Josephine’s either trying to maintain their figures or improve upon what they dislike about their physique. I have yet to ascertain why those people turn weird (and there is no other word for it) once they get into the locker room.
Just a week ago I was accosted by an elderly white woman who wanted me to help her undress. Yes. You heard me! She demanded that I held her get naked. She had just completed her water aerobics class and emerged from the pool in a sopping wet, wrinkly mess. There were two other members of the class standing around with her when I walked into the locker room from the main gym floor on my way to the sauna. She stood directly in my path. Before I could step around her, she made her request.
“Hey hun,” she said in a real Southern drawl, “can you help me take off the top to my swimming suit?”
She didn’t wait for me to reply…she merely lifted her arms and looked at me expectedly. I felt like I was in the midst of a scene from 1832. I lifted her taut tank top over her head and she struggled to free herself from the restricting Lycra material. Her hundred year old breasts flopped out in front of me and sat there glaring at me sullenly, as if daring me to judge them. I handed her back her top and fled.
“Thank you hunny!” she called to me. “Those things are SO hard to get off when they’re wet.”
“Darn near impossible,” one of her equally elderly friends confirmed.
They went back to discussing knitting and shopping. I was shaken – to my very core – and hoped I’d never have to see a naked old white woman again in my life. God has a way of granting the desires of your heart in the most peculiar ways.
With the memory of Mrs. Droopie Boob all but forgotten, I went back to the sauna after my work out this afternoon as has become my custom. I was surprised to see it was occupied. There was a 30-something year old White woman with curly brown hair reading something on a tablet. We nodded at each other respectfully and then prepared to ignore one another, despite the close quarters we were sharing.
I like to do sits up and tricep dips in the sauna, but I scaled back my activity in consideration of my neighbor. So I laid there with my eyes fixed on the ceiling in the semi-darkness, soaking in the heat and allowing my muscles to loosen up. Soon, I was completely relaxed and lulled into a state of peaceful repose. That’s when it happened.
Someone had been taking a long hot shower in the room next to ours. I could hear everything the woman was doing, from scrubbing her feet to ducking in and out of the force of the stream of water. Soon, she gave the knob three hard turns and scampered out of the shower. No problem. People take showers at the gym all the time.
I’ve just never seen them come into the sauna butt-nuts naked.
An Asian woman came bursting through the glass doors with a towel and a plastic bag in her hands. She looked around the room frantically, as though trying to assess what would be the best place to do what she was about to do. Finally, she settled on a space between Curly Girl and me. I looked up to see that she had bent her skinny frame over and had put her flat buttocks directly in Curly Girl’s line of vision. She had also lifted her leg and had her (naked) crotch dangerously close to my feet. This was not to be borne! Within moments of the naked woman’s arrival, Curly Girl left the sauna with a scowl on her face. I couldn’t blame her. I’d be miffed if I’d just been mooned in a dark room as well.
I lay on the wooden bench and tried to block out what my eyes weren’t seeing. The Asian woman had pumped a few handfuls of lotion into her hands and was rubbing it robustly all over body. (Cue the sound I asked you to conjure up NOW!) For some reason, she moved closer to me, thrusting a pair of A cups into my line of sight and casting furtive glances at me. I tried to keep staring at the ceiling, but my gaze caught hers only for a moment. I tried to assess her, but failed miserably.
The thing about Asian women is that you can’t tell how old they are. She could have been 18 or 145 years old…there’s just no telling with that group.
Finally, after she had lotioned and warmed herself to her content, she sprayed a cloud of some gawd-awful cologne and left the room…naked as freshly peeled banana. I followed her out a few minutes later, driven away by the suffocating combination of heat and her parfum.
But what did my weary eyes behold as I walked out the door? The same naked woman – this time with her panties lying apathetically around her ankles – bent over looking for something in her gym bag. I mean COME ON! Pull your drawers up woman!
*****Lights fading in*****
Listen: I’m not a prude. I’ve been to boarding school. I’ve seen breasts and bodies of all different shades, shapes and sizes. But there was an unwritten rule that we did not have unnecessary nudity in the dorm. It’s just the right thing to do. Like football and penalties for unnecessary roughness , I believe there should be a penalty for unnecessary buffness in the locker room.
Do you work out? What’s the creepiest thing you’ve seen in the locker room? Better still, are YOU that guy/chick that streaks in public? Go ahead – tell all right here ↓