Monday, May 16, 2011

Averting My Eyes Before The Corneas Get Burned

I don't consider myself a prude - much.  I've given birth and heaven knows that results in the loss of all modesty and dignity.  They could have paraded folks from the express checkout lane at Wal-Mart through the room while my feet were in the stirrups pushing and I wouldn't have cared one whit.  I've had to deal with kids who were oozing various bodily fluids out of every orifice and was completely unfazed.  However, I never fail to feel a tad uncomfortable in the ladies changing room at my gym.

The changing room contains a wet room with curtained showers that is off to the side and I never frequent it since I use the cardio equipment instead of the pools.  I stick to the area with lockers running down 3 sides, a wall of counters with mirrors and blow dryers provided, as well as lots of wide wooden benches in the middle.  My routine is to check in at the front desk, then proceed up the stairs to the changing room so I can stow my purse and jacket.  

I've noticed that the large locker area has a dressing room in each corner with a door that locks.  What I've also noticed is that it's typically the younger set who uses them.  When I say younger, I mean anyone born before JFK became president.  It always seems to be the older generation that is letting it all hang out as they get dressed right there at the bench area.  Come to think of it, I believe I'm referring to the bra burning or bra-less generation so it kinda makes sense.  And when I say hang out, I really mean hang down to your waist.  It's such a shock to walk around the corner into the changing room, look up and see a pair of saggy boobs just a swayin' in the breeze.  Puritan that I am, I quickly shift my gaze to the floor.  Typically the bold lady with the bare bosoms will be in her undies, the full brief sort commonly called granny panties, and have a towel wrapped around her head.  And about half the time, she'll be chatting with somebody without making any effort to corral the wayward pair.  It's such a contradiction, the bottom half thoroughly covered while the top half doesn't get a second thought.  I figure I should just be glad that the older gals aren't wearing the thongs so popular on the younger set.  

I probably see at least two sets of boobs a week, which is two too many.  Heaven help me now that we're headed for summer because I'm afraid two sets will be multiplied soon with the onset of more swimming.  So yeah, I'm from the Bible belt and am not ashamed of my WASP heritage.  Prithee gentle ladies using the changing room, Goodwife Carrie Louise humbly requests that you refrain from exposing your chest area and henceforth keep it covered since this song has started running through my head.  "Do your boobs hang low, do they wobble to and fro..."  It's just a matter of time before I get the giggles and hum along.

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