People are asking what my cryptic post was about a couple of days ago, but I’m not telling. A boy has to have some secrets; I just wanted to capture my vexed state of mind, not give away the store. Instead, I will tell you what it’s like in the men’s locker room at the gym. You don’t have to tell me what it’s like in the women’s locker room because I saw that episode of “Seinfeld.”
In the men’s locker room, there is a television that’s on all the time. It’s tuned to the news, and once “227” was on, the one where Mary was worried about something or another and Sandra said something sassy. If the shoe shine man is there, sprawled on the vinyl sofa, there are soap operas that he watches. He always says “All right, then.” He is old, but there are plenty of other old guys in there, too. They are invariably naked and sitting around reading the newspaper. If they are not reading the newspaper, they are talking to each other about business or the news, but they’re always naked and have their leg up on the bench as if they’ve conquered it. The people I most want to see naked are typically modest, but the people I would pay to keep their clothes on have everything flapping in the breeze at all times thanks to the self-confidence that comes from knowing you aren’t in the mainstream of desirability.
There is a lot of posturing in the locker room. There are hearty and brash conversations, and people make exaggerated grunting noises after they’ve worked out to theatrically indicate weariness. I will not describe the sounds that come from the toilet area on some occasions, but I have never heard anything like it. I just mind my own business. Sometimes when people try to talk to me, I pretend I don’t hear them.
After I work out, I sit in the steam room for a while. The steam room is its own little world with windows you usually can’t see out of because of all the condensation. In the steam room, most people don’t talk, and they pretend not to look at each other. They usually bury their faces in their hands, which is what I do, too. When people do talk to each other, the topic is depressing. I have never overheard an uplifting conversation in the steam room. I went in there last night, and there was a fat man wearing a plastic suit sitting there with a towel over his head.
In the dry sauna, you can see out the windows. There is one window from which, if you angle your head right, you can see into the shower area. I know this not because I’ve sat there but because I usually end up in the stall that is the most visible from this window, and I’ve seen people looking. That is not because I am particularly desirable but because it’s very boring in that steam room. If you took an iPod in there, it would probably melt, but it would melt slowly and in a way that is not very interesting.
