Thursday, September 19, 2013

Combos (and Then Some) in the Locker Room

Yesterday after my workout, I had to shower at the gym. Yes, it’s kind of gross. And yes, I wore my flip flops specified only for public showers. Let’s be clear: it’s not that I shower publicly often, but when I do, I wear those shoes.

To begin, I was a little bit bummed because though there are two shower stalls, the one I prefer was occupied. The one which I ended up using is smaller and has a hand-held shower head. Fortunately for me, it clips onto the pole high enough for me to stand up straight and shower somewhat normally. I would venture to guess that for the majority of my readership (ok, not my mom or my grandma) it would be a tortuous exercise to bend that low and/or hold the handle and still bathe somewhat effectively.

Reason #357 that I’m glad I’m 5’2.5”.

That being said, I didn’t have time to wait for my preferential stall so I went with the other one.

Now, fast forward through the shower. It was gross; the hair on the shower walls and all that business makes me a little gaggy…even now as I type.

So, as I was getting dressed inside the little stall…because where else was I going to get dressed, right? 

Who would leave the safety and comfort of the stall and get dressed in front of God and everyone? That would be C.R.A.Z.Y., right? (If you’re sensing a hint of foreshadowing there, you are quite astute…I have nothing but quality readers, I am certain.). From inside the shower stall, I heard a noise to which I am familiar: it was undoubtedly a snack food wrapper of some sort.

Well, I am not one to judge because who hasn’t, on occasion, imbibed in a snack food “reward” after a workout?

I didn’t think much of it, however, in the few minutes it took me to get dressed, and then put away all my toiletries and such, I continued to hear the crinkle-crinkle-crinkle of the wrapper.

Surely someone isn’t sitting in the locker room, eating a snack…is she? (I’m making a presumption here, but it was the women’s locker room, so I figured it was a safe assumption.)

Now, I was completely focused on the sound: What else could it be?

I don’t know…it can’t be anything other than a snack food wrapper.

It can’t be a granola bar or something like that…it’s taking too long for her to eat. No one takes that long to eat a granola bar…it’s only 3, maybe 4 bites tops.

I don’t hear a crunch…so what could it be that doesn’t have a crunch? Maybe there is one but I can’t hear it.

And why don’t I hear ANY other noise? Isn’t she getting changed or something?

Maybe it’s a pre-workout energy boost?

That must be it…she’s getting ready and fueling her body for a top-notch workout. I’m not judging…who hasn’t, on occasion, imbibed in a snack food “fueling” before a workout?

When I could no longer take it and just HAD to see what’s going on out there (plus I was totally dressed and all packed up, so there was really no reason to remain in the shower stall), I flung open the curtain and what did I see?

A lady sitting on her towel, in only her bra and skivvies, eating a big bag of Combos.

It’s not exactly the high point of the story you were expecting, was it? Me either. I can’t promise you too much for the falling action of the story either.

She had a couple bags on the floor around her, open and stuff kind of spilling out everywhere. Her hair was still dripping wet. And she kind of gave me a look like “What?”

Apparently my face belied what I was thinking…which was the same word, different inflection, “What?!?”

I quickly scurried by, because my hair was also wet and undone and figured I should get to the business of doing something about that.

As I was drying my hair, I had my head tilted down but I saw movement in the mirror. I looked up (it’s those survival instincts…don’t want to be caught unaware, lest I be ambushed in the bathroom) and it was the same lady passing by.

Yes, there she was, sauntering out into the area with the sinks and toilets (not so much the “ladies locker room” area, but the “ladies restroom” area. Here is where all the Senior Saints pop in to use the potty when they’re in between laps around the track.)

Anyway…the lady still only had on her bra and skivvies. And flip-flops…she did have those on too.
And she carried in her hands a hairdryer. And the bag of Combos.

She proceeded to primp a little bit and eat some Combos and then dry some hair. And then repeat the process.

It was like a bad accident…only I didn’t let myself look other than furtive glances. Kind of like on the tour at the Black Pine Animal Sanctuary.

I was so stunned by this one woman, turning two of my fundamental truths completely upside down: 

     1) you can’t be eating anything when you’re only wearing your skivvies, and 
     2) you can’t walk around public places in only your skivvies.

Yes, these are two of the hard and fast rules by which I live my life. Is it no wonder, with such staunch truths by which to live, that I’ve gotten this far?

(True confession: I do have at least a couple other rules which may or may not have a little bit more stringent hold on me, and may have had more to do with the content of my character than these particular ones which she so blatantly broke.)

And believe it or not, I have NEVER broken either one of these rules.


  1. Bwahahahahahahaaahahahahaaaaaaaa

    Ohhh dear a lot! This is why I use the 'green gym' and shower in the privacy of my own home. Wow!

    I love how utterly brazen she was. What a 'TUDE!

    (also, you're *DINKY*!!! :D )

    1. Part of me wishes I could be so brazen...but the prude in me is glad I am not...

    2. I know what you mean :) Something quite liberating about that sorta attitude. An ACTUAL 'devil-may-care' streak would be quite fun to own, rather than the 'devil-may-care-until-I-think-anyone-might-see' thing I currently have going on ;)

  2. Oh honey I grew up in a house with only girls, spent morning time walking around the house is just my skivvies while getting ready for school. I then went off to college where my dorm mates knew how stressful my day was by the amount of clothing stripped off my body on my way to my room. Married and my kids {boys and girls, boys now have a realistic expectation of how their wives will look after years of marriage} have seen me in skivvies almost every day of their lives, I am sure they will need therapy for it. I don't want to put something on before I iron my clothes, or if I have to run and wake a kid while I am getting dressed, or even get a shirt off the clothes rack and have the JW see me in shorts and a bra...
    Yeah I never was a hide in the stall get dressed kind of girl. But if you are or want to be I will still be your friend. And I might harass you in the locker room.
    Although I don't usually eat in my skivvies, don't want crumbs lodging in my bra or drips of sticky cereal milk on my skin.

    1. Yes I know I will probably be made fun of for being such a prude...but my mom was never one to strip down to her skivvies and nor am I.

      I cannot imagine what the PBA would do if they ever saw me in my's bad enough when they help fold the laundry...

    2. No mockery for being a "prude" and I promise not to strip down to my skivvies when we meet! I assume that you will still one day want to meet me now that you know I have a tendency to be immodest in my house or locker room {would NEVER shock your poor PBA that would be torture} My mom still yells out the door if we come knocking asking "who all is out there" to run and put on more clothing before we come inside. Must be a family thing. Shoot my sister flashed the neighbor and did not know about it until she went to her room to change her clothes funniest thing ever!
      We do save the laundry torture of our skivvies from the kids. Keith was traumatized as a child folding his parents so when the kids started helping he said "do not let them fold our underwear ever" so they do not fold our underwear.

  3. Hahhahaha!!!! Nothing like a good ol' TMI in the locker room story! When you finally emerged from the locker room, could the boys tell by the look on your face that something horribly wrong had just happened?

    1. They didn't say anything but I'm sure it was plastered on my face that I had been traumatized...sometimes they know when to just not ask...

  4. Even worse would be if she hadn't been wearing skivvies at all!! See? Always something to be thankful for!

    I'm the same way though and I did grow up in a house full of girls. No way, no how would I let anyone judge, I mean, uh, er, see me in my birthday suit if I can help it! OR in my skivvies!