I’ve started going to the gym and I admit I was a bit hesitant about changing in front of strangers. Flashbacks to junior high and all that. Fortunately there usually aren’t that many people there, and nobody pays much attention to anyone.
However, I’ve noticed that there seem to be some guys who apparently just like to walk around in there naked. I understand if you’re going to the shower or something but you know you COULD get a towel there, sir. I mean, I know I’m self-concious about myself (which is why I’m there) but this is more about - well, I don’t know what it’s about.
Anyway, the situation reached its most disturbing level the other day when I’m sitting there changing into my gym clothes and this guy is walking around naked for about ten minutes all while “Tainted Love” by Soft Cell is playing on the radio.
I suddenly felt like I was in an afterschool special.
Tainted Love is a good song, man. Now you’ve gone and ruined it for me.
I really don’t like that kind of display, myself. I fence several times a week, and one guy does that shit notoriously. We don’t even have a regular locker room: sometimes a pretty fair number of us are crammed in a small room trying to rip off heavy wool outerclothes as quickly as possible so we can go home. Since there are few places to sit down and very little room, there is an unwritten rule that dictates a certain amount of discretion.
But not for the Deoderizer.
He strips down buck naked, breaks out the Right Guard Aerosol, and proceeds to spray himself down for several minutes. In a crowded locker room full of guys trying to look away from the spectacle and trying not to breathe.
I will probably have to deal with him tonight. While quietly humming Tainted Love to myself.
Every once in a while, I get issued a towel that’s a bit on the skimpy side, and it doesn’t quite make it all the way around. It’s a bit embarrassing. On the way from the showers, through the strange, labryinthine windings of the locker room, I just kinda drape it over my shoulder and act casual. Like, I’m not trying to flaunt . . . I know, I’m not in any position to be flaunting. . . just, don’t mind me, please. . .
At the YMCA where I work out, there are quite a number of guys who don’t mind shuffling around nekkid in the locker room. What really baffles me is that there’s a TV and a couch in the locker room, so half-naked (toweled) men can lounge around while watching Friends. “Surreal” doesn’t even begin to describe it.
Peter Cook had a character called EL Wisty who pontificated brilliantly on many things, one of which was nudism. His thesis was simple: there has never been a war, ever, that was started by nudists.
Being nude is fun. Can be, anyhow. Circumstances notwithstanding I’d prefer to go naked while heading to the locker to get something I’ve forgotten, simply because it’s easier. I’d say stretching it to ten minutes is a bit different, but it’s a genuinely freeing sensation to mince around starkers, so why not? I used to worry about covering myself up, but that was in the early years, when Little Ross couldn’t be trusted. He is now as finely trained as any Black & White creature, and I to express my affinity with nature.
None of these arguments stand up in court, of course, as I’ve learned from painful experience. I guess people in Global Video just aren’t into affinity with nature. Bah.
Ugh… I hate locker rooms so much… No matter what the circumstance, I HATE exposing myself. Even if everyone else is, I’m always trying to figure out how to get dressed under my towel. Thankfully, I seem to be escaping from this for now.