Ladies Locker Room

Disclaimer 1: There's a lot of talk of nudity and boobs in this one. So if you want to shy away of nudity and boobs, just run away Monty Python style. But seriously, who isn't interested in nudity and boobs?!!?

Disclaimer 2: I tend to curse a lot. My inner monologue, even more. Sorry Mom.

I think finding pictures of cute animals "working out" may become a new past time of mine.

"Shit! How many towels am I supposed to take? I don't want to look like a looser who doesn't know what she's doing. No! The key to pulling this off is absolutely confidence!!" I had JUST walked into the gym and it had already started. It continued, "Just be cool, hang back & figure it out. Look, she took two towels and she's tiny. FUCK! No, Kathleen...you cannot have three towels, do you want to look like a freak? NO! No you don't. Take the two damn towels and get on with it!"

Yes. I do realize that I'm being mean to myself. OK really mean to myself. I had reasons, I had to practice a little tough love because two things were happening that were both diametrically opposed on my "Things That Are Awesome Meter" - swimming (love) & completely changing in the ladies locker room (dread).

The reason I joined the gym I did was because of the pool, that and it's on the train line smack dab between my apartment and my place of employment. I LOVE to swim. It makes me feel really good about myself (while I'm in the water). I was the child who you wouldn't get out of the pool after swimming lessons. I think I might have enjoying picking out a new swimsuit for the first day of swimming lessons more than picking out a new outfit for the first day of school. Where the Hell did that girl go? I mean, I like my bathing suit fine. It's green and black and keeps the girls locked and loaded; which is all I need. Oh wait! That girl's still there, she's just hidden under blankets of fat - but she shall emerge again, like a phoenix rising from the ash.

So... I need to get into the pool, in my bathing suit...I'm currently wearing my work clothes...that mean horror of horrors: CHANGING COMPLETELY DOWN TO NOTHING IN THE LADIES LOCKER ROOM! I almost think I'd rather change in the men's locker room.... No scratch that! That's terrifying still, but I think less terrifying that women, I'll explain later. What I want, is for me to be able to change in a locker room full of gay men. They'd tell me how fierce my shoes were and how fabulous my boobs are. SOLUTION FOUND!

But I live in the real world. In my brain, I have conjured the the reality that all women that I don't actually know are judgmental, like Mean Girls style. I even had an image of where in the movie they turn the cafeteria in the African Jungle...but ladies locker room instead of HS cafeteria.

And it begins.... change down to nothing, quickly...but not so quickly as things start to unnecessarily flop about...on w/ the sports bra...on w/ the swimsuit..struggle to get the clasp clasped...SHIT FUCK DAMN, it's not working...looking around for someone with clothes on to help (cause the alternative is just awkward)...OK that's done...grab towel...goggles...swim cap...I don't really need my flip flops do I?....and we're off the shower...*water, water, water*....off the the pool we go...

WHAT. THE. FUCK!?!?!?!?!?!? There is this apparent walk of terror between the ladies locker room and the pool. There is a walkway that has a glass wall that shower the big weight machines where all the muscle-y men are. Wait a second...they are probably WAY more absorbed in what they're doing and how they look while doing it to notice not-so-little ol' me...walk to the pool, swiiiiiiiim for 20 minutes straight (not too shabby)...hot tub time...hey! the attractive man with the cool tattoos was just nice to me...it must be that a) I'm not all that terrible or b) it's just cause all he can see it my boobs...whatever!...back to the ladies locker room: Land of Self Imagined Judgment.

Grab gym bag from locker....go shower...FUCK!! I'm really naked! I should've gotten that third towel...are the towels that small or am I that big...I settle on a combination of the both...hey look! my long (so long it covers all my bits bobs tank top to the point I feel comfortable wearing it with leggings) tank top fell into my gym bag...traipsing around almost naked is better than traipsing around completely naked...this is the part where I begin to think, "You know...I should blog about these experiences...." aaaaaand....

SLIDE. SLIP. SPLAT. OUCH!!!!!

There are two patches of tile floor that don't have the little protective netting that PROTECT YOU FROM SLIPPING before you get to the carpeted area. Guess I didn't need flip flops. Fucking great idea Kathleen. NEVER AGAIN! To add insult to injury, Little Ms. Perfect was there to help me up. Like...tall, lifted booty, boobs neither too big or small, blond hair, really white teeth. Universe...you enjoy fucking with me, don't you!?!

So naturally, I do the only think I know how to do in such a situation: laugh inappropriately loud...for five minutes. This is the entire time it takes me to get dressed. But here's the good news. I think it really cured me of my fear of ladies lockers room. The only thing worse, would be me slipping completely naked. Lesson learned.