i did not have a good meal there

I joined the Y a few weeks ago and have started to go semi-regularly. My legs are sore as hell but I’ve been feeling pretty good and sleeping like a baby, so that’s nice. We have two YMCA locations in town – the older one is downtown and then there’s a newer one across town in a fancy new trendy development. They’re equidistant from my house but I prefer the older Y downtown. I guess that’s kind of weird because the last time I went to a gym regularly was when I was in college, and I got spoiled to death with the super-fancy facilities there. It makes me kind of picky about gyms, but the fancy new Y and its members intimidate me. I find the downtown location a little friendlier. I could go to the fitness center on campus for free, but the hours are inconvenient, there are not many machines and they’re often broken, and most of all, I don’t want to work out with my coworkers.

So I’ve been going to the Y, but one thing I will not do there is shower. It’s not so much that I don’t want other people seeing my naked body. It’s more that I prefer my own shower at home, with my own soap and shampoo and washcloths and towels, and I just find showering in public to be kind of an uncomfortable experience. I’d much rather just wear my workout clothes home and shower once I get there, and that is what I usually do.

Of course, not everyone has the hangups I have. In fact, some elderly women seem to have no hangups at all, as evidenced by the way they totally trot around the locker room bare-assed naked for several minutes at a time.

This still doesn’t bother me all that much. Women’s bodies are different and everyone is beautiful and, honestly, the nudity is not the issue.

Nudity six inches from my head is a bit of an issue.

I was sitting on a bench lacing up my sneakers the other day when an old lady came from the shower into my little locker nook to change back into her regular clothes. I was at the very end of my bench, as far away from her as I could possibly be, and yet she decided that she needed to change her clothes six inches from my head. Specifically, she bent over to pull up her underwear at the same moment I accidentally looked up, and holy crap. I think the last time I was that close to a woman’s crotch was 27 years ago when I was emerging from one.

And it’s not like I can say anything. What would I say? “Excuse me, but your naked ass is uncomfortably close to my head, could you scooch down just a bit?” I didn’t say anything. Instead I very carefully tried to look back down without bonking my head on her ass, and finished tying my shoes, and slid sideways and out.

I think I’d rather not have that experience again.