Jennie Smash

I went back to the gym today, after two weeks of being too busy and/or sick to go, and I was alarmed to discover that sometime during my hiatus, I became one of the naked people.

If you go to a gym, you know these people. They parade around the locker room, from the showers to the scale to the lockers, wearing nothing but their landing strip. I used to scorn these people, assuming that they were either hideously vain or possessed of such horribly low self-esteem that they wanted all of us to suffer their nudity along with them.

Many of them had weird habits, too. Horowitz once told me about a woman at her gym who used to blow-dry her ass. She’d stand before the mirrors, buck nekkid, and blow dry her hair. And then, when she was done, she’d bend over, spread ’em, and blow dry her hiney. Why? I dunno. All I know is that Horowitz starting bringing her own hair dryer.

I’m not that far gone, but I did find myself wandering around the locker room naked this afternoon. I was over at my locker and realized I needed a plastic bag to put my gym clothes in. So I padded across the room to the mirrors and grabbed one.

I realize that this might not sound all that strange to many people. To those people all I can say is: Keep your creepy hippie nudist lifestyle to yourself! When I start wandering around sans pants in semi-public places, you know it’s time for me to start getting a bit more sleep.