When I got to middle school and had to start changing in a locker room before gym class the first thing I taught myself -- besides not getting an erection when they did the scoliosis test -- was to non discretely change out of my clothes in such a manner as to not to draw attention to my momentarily bare penis. Ten years later, I still go to the gym and find that myself and everyone else have mastered the art of scrotum shrouding. However the people at the gym I go to in Los Angeles are still insecure about doing this.
I go to a gym called Synergy because its right next to the building where I take my classes. As you might at expect with anything with the name Synergy its pretty damn gay there. The trainers there look they would be perfect fits for a gay porno spin off of 300, or, even gayer, the actual movie 300.
But enough about my wet dreams. You think with all the natural homoeroticism that emanates from the gym, I assumed its typical gym goers would be chomping at the bit to show me their penises. But as the old saying goes about assumptions: assuming is for faggots.
I was sitting on the bench in the locker room. I was already in my gym clothes and was lacing up my sneakers, ready to kick ass on the tredmill. It's just me in the locker room. Then this guy who I've seen a couple times before comes in and sees me there. He just looks at me for several seconds with fear in his eyes, and I could tell he was debating with himself over something. After seemingly making up his mind, he grabs his regular clothes and goes in to the bathroom stall to change.
He went to the bathroom stall to change. I haven't done that since I was in sixth grade. Then to make matters even stranger this other dude comes in, who was still in his regular clothes comes in. He sees me in the locker room still lacing my shoes and notices the dude in the stall. He makes the remark to me "full house huh?"*
*Okay let me go off on a tangent here. I see this guy all the time at the gym and everytime he enters the lockerroom, he makes the remark "full house, huh?" No matter how many people were in the locker room, and no matter how much it didn't make sense to the situation, he still said it. At first it annoyed me but then I came to the conclusion that this was the only phrase this man knew how to say in English. That makes me feel bad for him cause this means the only social situations he can fit in to are playing poker and watching Bob Saget/John Stamos sitcoms.
But enough about my wet dreams. After saying "full house, huh" for the fifteenth time since Ive been a member, he looks over at me and the occupied bathroom stall...and just leaves. Rather than having to be semi-naked for a breif second in front of me, he chose to leave the gym and not work out.
Look, there are few things in this world I want less than for these gym goers to see my penis. That's one of the truest statements I've ever made. And yet I continue to carry on, and take the good with the bad.
Los Angeles continues to surprise me with its anti-dickness.
No comments:
Post a Comment