Observations at the Gym

So I hit up the gym before work many week days... it ramps up my work day and forces me to perform a focused workout in 45 minutes... Here are a 3 things I came across just today that I feel the need to get off my chest, no pun intended (you'll see why)...

1. I'm walking from the toilet to my locker, after my lucky pre-workout bowel movement. I pass the urinals to see a grown man, fully nude standing at the urinals barefoot taking a wizz- with his towel around his shoulders. His hair is wet, which tells me he has already showered. This raises two important concerns:
A: why does his towel only need to dry his shoulders? Why not use it to dry (or at least cover) his wet, hairy ass cheeks that he is apparently so proud of? Look, I love gagging in public and having to avert my eyes around every possible corner as much as the next guy in the locker room. But if you're so proud of that specific body part, I'd imagine you'd want to take proper care of it. That's not the kind of gluteual-trophy you want to leave to the pitfalls of air-drying, lord only knows what kind of tangled mess could result without proper drying technique followed by detailed attention to combing (with the grain) using the 'my little pony' hair brush he stole from his theater-loving son.
B: He is barefoot standing at a urinal, post shower. We all know that despite our ability to aim when we pee, no man is perfect and there's also the 'dribble factor,' to account for. Having to control the flow of urine during drastic changes in pressure and trajectory is no easy feet; I'm not a fireman. So its safe to say the area all around the urinal is covered (at least partially) in urine- this tells me he is okay with (or oblivious to) spending the rest of the day with other mens' urine caked to the bottom of his feet, left to fester in the heat and moisture of a socked-foot within a shoe. Not really my business, but the observation simply reinforces my decision to own my own bowling shoes.

2. I'm walking back to my locker, clean and towel-clad following my post workout shower. When I come to my row of lockers I am faced with man-euvering past a half-naked old man- my favorite. Thanks to the economy-sized locker room, we have little room to execute a masculinely acceptable man-pass, even if both parties perform flawlessly. However, in this instance one party (not me) happens to be an octogenarian that is blinder and deafer than my parents 16-year-old Yorkshire Terrier (who has btw, earned the nickname "Terminator" over the last 3 years, because he just won't die). So I come up on this old man's blind side (like an invisible Lawrence Taylor) and I say 'excuse me.' Well, he doesn't see or hear me and continues about his business of getting naked before suiting up in his crusty old jock strap and bitchin racquetball tracksuit. As I pass, he obliviously leans back to remove his business socks and my chest makes tender, innocent contact with his upper back. 'Excuse me,' I say again; he jumps forward startled as though I were the ghost of Patrick Swazee and he Demi Moore- No we did not renact the sensual pot-throwing scene from Ghost. The pass was completed and I made it safely to my locker, but not without irreparable emotional damage. It was not an experience I want to repeat, but I will say- you haven't lived until you feel another man's back hair gently intertwine with your chest hair; more intimate than watching Ray Kinsella have a catch with his dad in Field of Dreams...  Is this heaven?  No its the men's locker room- don't touch me.

3. Finally- I'm getting dressed to go to work and I see 2 guys, (2!) using spray deodorant in the locker room. Not axe body spray, good ole Mennen aerosol deodorant. Is this the 1950's? Seriously, how many decades has it been since in the invention of roll-on/gel deodorant or even antiperspirant? Do these guys still smoke on airplanes, dictate memos to typewriter-wielding secretaries, drink bourbon at work and not let their wives speak unless spoken- except when announcing that dinner is ready? (I'm kidding on the last three, who doesn't still do those?) My message to those guys: Look, its not that I don't love watching you intimately crop dust each side of your nude torso in front of the community sinks, layering every piece of bathroom hardware (that I have to use) in a fine mist of scent-impregnated chemicals... and I can handle that diaper-fresh baby powder scent slowly creeping into every corner of the locker room, eventually invading my innocent nasal cavity... but when I can literally taste how clean your arm pits are- well that's where I would prefer to draw the line (or in your case- airbrush the line). But if that is how you want to play it, I'd like for you lick my deodorant stick a few times and then apply said helping to my armpit with your tongue, so you can get full experience. Unnecessary? Maybe. Poignant? In many ways. So please, unless you have a medical condition- lets stick with the regular roll-on. And lets face it, if you have medical condition with regard to sweating, you probably shouldn't be working out anyway. Especially around others, because most likely your condition is contagious, just like communism.