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I’ve seen more naked guys than the gay equivalent of Wilt
Chamberlain. Or the female equivalent of Wilt Chamberlain for that matter.
Maybe that statement needs some
context.
I’ve been an avid gym-goer for
several years now. I go early in the morning, pump a little iron as the kids
say and then go to work and sit on my butt all day, completely undoing whatever
progress I’d made earlier. You know, because it’s important to maintain the
status quo.
Anyway, if there’s one thing you
learn by going to gyms during the hours most frequented by an older crowd, it's
that old people have no shame. They give zero craps.
So pretty quickly you get used to
the idea of seeing an old dude brushing his teeth at a sink while his bait and
tackle rests on the counter.
You get used to it and you also
make a mental note to keep your own tooth brush as far away from any and all
surfaces in a locker room as if the toothbrush was your daughter and the surfaces were Justin Bieber - after he’d had a bunch of old man balls rubbed all over
him.
Now I want to make it clear that
being naked in a locker room doesn't bother me. It’s what it’s there for. I’m
frequently naked in locker rooms and occasionally in other rooms, as
well.
But being a repressed,
Catholic-raised prude at heart, the thing that does get to me is this need to
make a show of it, aka the dude scrubbing the counter with his pork and beans.
Or the other guy who feels the need to walk clear across the room in his
birthday suit to weigh himself.
