Don’t go in the Locker Room

We switched gym memberships about 8 months ago when the family caught up to me here in St. Louis.  Gold’s Gym is two miles from the house and our location is a corporate gym which is supposed to mean great gear, cleanliness, etc.  I stopped going months ago during the winter because I hated getting out in the ice and other assorted winter elements.

I have been ramping up for the daily gym visit again.  If I truly get back to a pace I was at a year ago I’ll need a gym that I feel comfortable in 4 days a week.  I say comfortable because that’s what its about for me.  I don’t go to gyms to socialize or compete.  I just need a place to train in my own space.

There’s many reasons why we don’t like Gold’s and we’re looking for a new home in that department.  It’s the little things that irk me.  The gym back in Virginia had a basket for car keys so you didn’t need a locker or worry about carrying keys in your pocket.  They also had a row of coat hangers to hang jackets, or for me a warm-up jacket and pants, again so you didn’t necessarily need a locker.  Basically you never had to enter the locker room if you played your cards right.

This is one of the things that turn me off to gyms the most: the locker room.  I don’t know how it is for the ladies but in a mens locker room there are always that assorted bunch of dudes that just like to hang out naked and chat with anyone that comes along.  They are always there, lurking, waiting for another naked socialite.  I don’t believe they’re gay, just proud to be naked.

Usually the nakedites don’t have great physique either which is another item that has always puzzled me.  Most are older too.  It’s like a bunch of grandpa’s standing around at the proctologist talking about the last check-up they had.  I don’t know what they talk about.  I never socialize in the gym, regardless.

Our Gold’s forces you to enter the locker room.  They don’t allow you to leave your keys at the front counter.  There’s not a place to hang a jacket.  You have to go to the locker room.  I usually take an empty locker as close to the entrance as possible so I can drop off and pick up as quickly as I can.  Yesterday I got caught.

I had my ear phones in and didn’t hear the initial comment.  There he was, a half-naked socialite.  And half-naked means there’s no bottom, just a shirt.  He was a Jackie Wright look-a-like, right out of Benny Hill but a little more stockier.  Because I had my music on, a little Allman Brother’s Southbound (oh, I miss Dixie) and clearly not engaged in recognizing any person, I was somewhat puzzled that his lips were moving while looking at me.

I could have just walked out.  I didn’t.  I removed the ear pieces to acknowledge the greeting or whatever this guy was talking about.

“Did you hear that?” he asked grinning ear to ear.  “No, I didn’t.” I said, now even more puzzled.  Was the roof of the gym collapsing?  Did a fire alarm go off?

“Oh ok,” he said.  “I just ripped a big one over here,” he exclaimed still smiling ear to ear, proud of the morning flatulence, wanting the Master’s green jacket as an award.

I had no comment and headed briskly for the exit.  As if he were Santa Clause and was wishing me a Merry Christmas as he rode off into the moonlight I heard him say, “whoo, don’t come around this corner.”

This is precisely why you stay out of the locker room.  Next time Tom, keep the ear piece in.

Good Friday, ya’ll.

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