Peter Pan didn't want to grow up... and neither do I. Unfortunately, I can't make a living doing things I love most (namely, playing football and softball, then enjoying a beer while watching the waves roll in on a tropical island), so I have to eke out a living in a cubicle. These stories are all true, and they reflect my best efforts to enjoy the day-to-day.

Saturday, January 21, 2012

Staying in Shape is (Bio)-Hazardous

If I don't work out at least five times a week, I get fat. I tend to fluctate between 180 - 200 lbs. At 180, I'm cut. At 200, I'm doughy.


I used to workout at Lifetime Fitness. Think GloboGym from Dodgeball. I can't afford that place any more, so I thought I'd join the company gym, which is actually really nice. There are approximately 30 cardio machines, machine weights, free weights, adjustable benches, a Smith machine, group fitness classes, you name it.


They also have a laundry service, which basically consists of a mesh bag that you stuff your dirty clothes into before closing off the end and tossing it into their laundry room. The staffers wash the towels and bags o' clothes all together. Usually there is about a 24 hour turnaround, so you will always have a set of clothes at the gym.


Squeezing in a workout at lunch has worked out pretty well so far. I leave the desk at 11:30 and I'm back at 12:40 at the latest, freshly showered and smelling like Axe. That's right, I use a loofah, which the good folks at Axe have kindly re-named a "detailer". If I were any less comfortable in my sexuality, I'd have an issue with that....


Sorry, getting off track. This little incident happened at the end of one of my lunchtime workout sessions...


[Cue flashback music, make everything go wavy/blurry, and then coming back into focus on your mental image of me, sweaty and smiling from my workout...]


After a nice workout at lunch, which included a brutal ab class from one of the personal trainers, whom I shall call Shawn “The Slayer” (simply because I like alliteration), I'm getting ready to take a shower... with my detailer. It exfoliates.


I grab a towel from the desk up front and walk back to the men's locker room. I go to my locker, drop that warm, fluffy, clean towel on the bench in the aisle, and begun to prep for my shower.


Stripping down quickly, I stuff my dirty, sweaty, nasty clothes into my laundry bag. The whole moist mess is tossed into the locker. I pull out my shampoo, shower gel, and detailer.


Not wanting to remain naked for long in a room full of co-workers in various states of undress, I slam the locker shut and turn back around to grab the towel and hit the showers… only to discover that someone has dropped their skid-marked tighty-whities (which are older, actually tinged more yellow than white) onto my nice, clean, fresh-from-the-gym dryer-towel.

The owner of the biohazard contaminating my towel isn't hard to find. He's wearing a business shirt, fully buttoned, and no pants, Donald Duck-style. I supply the offender an exasperated, disgusted look, which apparently does not faze this fancy dude at all. He casually gets dressed, removing his drawers from my towel and putting them on as if nothing is amiss, and walks out the door. No apology, no acknowledgment, nothing.


In my mind, this fella has committed two offenses. The first is that he wears underwear that needs to be thrown away. The second is that he feels ok dropping that underwear onto someone else's towel.


Not wanting to get pink eye, I have to get re-dressed into my nasty, sweaty workout clothes so I can go out and grab another towel.


After showering and dressing, I use my NEW towel to pick up the old one and deposit it in the laundry. The poor gym staffer there is completely overwhelmed by the mountain of towels, despite both of their industrial-sized washers and dryers running full speed. I'm sure the first couple weeks after New Years is always tough on gym personnel.


Seeing the staffer look around with a hopeless desperation at the mounds of towels piling up around her, I get an idea. I walk back to my desk and quickly type up a Cliffs Notes version of what you've just read and send it to Shawn. I end the email with:

"So if you and your staff were starting to wonder why so many towels were coming through the laundry… it’s not from the addition of new members looking to make good on New Year’s Resolutions – it’s actually because everyone has to get two towels, in case the first one gets sullied by someone who does not aim carefully when dropping their tighty-whities on the locker room benches."

2 comments:

  1. So great to see you back to your writing! I LOVE "the detailer," the epitome of making pre-manscaping more masculine.

    This could totally be a "Curb Your Enthusiasm" episode.

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  2. Oh. My. God.

    The detailer was also the part that first stuck out in my mind, made me feel the need to comment. Then I read the rest. And really...Oh. My. God.

    ReplyDelete