I saw something strange at the gym the other day, and I guess I could try to use it as a metaphor for something bigger in life, or spin a tale about things that people do.
And if I tried to reach to the inner corridors of my memory, I might be able to come up with another incident like the one I saw the other day – whoops, there it was – but since it’s not something I’d like to spend a lot of time or brain capacity on, and let’s face it, both are a limited commodity – I’m not going to do that.
I also apologize in advance for any graphic mental images you may get, but that’s on you. Not me. I’m just giving your brain the cues.
So, the other day, I was at the gym, about to finish my usual three-hour session that consists of 30 minutes of walking around the gym and 2.5 hours of sitting in the sauna, reading newspapers so I walked back to the dressing room. (Note: I’m not sure I use this term correctly, because while that would be the proper Canadian hockey term, not “locker room”, at my gym, we actually do have lockers, so maybe that’s what I should call it).
Just as you walk into the room where you change your clothes, there’s a big mirror for fixing your hair, checking out your biceps, or adjusting your tie, whatever it is you wish to do. I often stop and gaze into my blue eyes which, for some weird reason, look even bluer after a half hour of walking around the gym.
But, now, I saw a dark-haired man standing in front of the mirror. He was checking out his biceps, fixing his hair, but not adjusting his tie, because he was naked. He was blow drying his hair, making it look just right, and just as I was passing him, he lowered the dryer, and blew some – I assume – hot air on his genitals.
He was smiling.