Recently, I have attempted to convince myself that I enjoy going to the gym with daily “The Gym is Fun” mantras. In the summer, it’s much more difficult to justify the cost when the sun is out begging for me to play in it’s rays. But with a winter trip to Hawaii approaching (not quickly enough btw) now seemed like the best time to get my ish together. Rather than the week before, which has proven to be less effective in the past. Who knew?
As I am not masochistic, I dislike trying to kick my own ass while pumping lots and lots of iron and doing millions of crunches. Rather, doing few reps/crunches before, again, trying to pin my athletic laziness on asthma. Therefore, I prefer going to classes and forcing someone else to drill-sergeant my ass to soreness. Then, before the pain really sets in, I shower before work.
Our showers are nothing short of being luxurious. With doors that click, high water pressure, water temperature adjustable to the degree and even a little pedestal to rest your foot when shaving. Oh, and the shower cream? It’s right there, too. The razors are by the sink though, so you have to grab those on your way in…
(Yes, I do go to a cushy gym. Idolize me later, peasants.)
Here’s where is gets interesting.
My gym consists of women mainly above the age of forty. There is an age, I’m not sure what it is but I promise it’s not 25, when it’s ok to be a nudist in the gym locker room. Because, really? Who cares? It’s all women anyways, right? At my current age I would like to continue thinking that my body will never succumb to gravity, the effects of child birth or what I will call ‘maturity.’ Sure, call me modest, but they provide robes for a reason, right? To be used. ::hint hint::
Last week, after chugging half of my complimentary coffee to jump-start my brain, I headed toward the shower IN MY ROBE. (I also wear shower sandals…more of you should take a lesson from freshman year of college and do it too. Fungus exists people.) As I approached, I was taken aback, immediately began repeating ‘look away, look away’ in my head and tried to get to my stall without tripping, slipping or walking into ANOTHER naked person.
Remember before when I mentioned the shower pedestal installed specifically for shaving purposes? Apparently, some people don’t find this to be an effective tool, preferring to step OUT of their CONCEALED shower and INTO all places out in the open. And since it’s not high enough, said people also like to rest their foot on the TOP of a stool facing outward. Toward the walkway. Where everyone else gets a nice little peek into the private world of being a female.
Males, you may be thinking “Dude, that’s sweet!” or “Whatever. I bet what happens below deck for us is worse.”
Nay. On both accounts.
The likelihood that you are shaving your legs spread eagle for all to see is very, very low. In the event that old men are free-ballin’ (sorry, Mom/Aunts) you only have to keep your eyes above the waist, which is no feat for a gender that usually stares chest level anyways.