Kate's recent posting got me thinking about gym ettiquette. I actually don't mind nakedness in the gym locker room. I mean, if not there, where else, right? Everyone's got to change. As long as you don't stare, point or take photos everyone pretty much minds their own business and averts their eyes.
However, if you can possibly sidestep bending over while being naked, all the better for us.
I credit having six really strong, wonderful girl friends from the time I was little for my non-overly neurotic body image. Misery loves company, I guess, and for all the awkward body weirdness that adolescents have to endure, I thank my lucky stars I got to do it with their love and support. Also, it was nice knowing I wasn't the only freak out there (no offense, ladies).
And, after living in Japan, where the onsen culture pretty much mandates nakedness, nothing surprises me. Like the time Emira, Erin and I did the onsen tour in Beppu and got trapped in a giant mud pit filled with the world's longest pubic hairs.
Then there was the time that Emira and I had to take a naked rose petal bath together as part of our "spa package" in Bali. Ok, well, we weren't totally naked. To their credit, they did give us paper panties (!). I'm still ROTFL about that.
So, long story short, I'm no Samantha in the lockerroom, but I'm no Charlotte either. In fact, I like to think my locker room 'skeeve' factor is a bit higher than droopy boobs and cellulite. But tonight - oh, tonight - I finally discovered my limit. A woman was undressing next to me, no big deal. I was minding my own business, keeping my eyes respectfully to the floor.
Which is when I saw Them: ten long, yellow, peeling, cracked, pus-infested toenails. Really, each one was so long you could use it to snort cocaine, if you had the notion (and the flexibility). Think Howard Hughes minus the kleenex boxes. Think yellow like Mountain Dew. This pus as in......pus.
You know those tv commercials for Lamasil? You know why they use that relatively cute Whammy-esque creature? Because if they showed you real pictures of toenail fungus, you just might throw up a little in your mouth.
But the grossest? The grossest was watching her march blythely into the tiled shower room, sans flip flops.
M is for Mouth, I Just Threw Up a Little In