One of the few benefits i get for being a
fossil senior management-like-object is the opportunity to use the Executive Locker Room at the gym. Located within the regular ladies locker room is a door with a cipher lock, to which i have been given the supersecret access code.
Even better – or worse, when you think about it – is the fact that my career in a male dominated field means that there are few ovaried-engineers. As a result, the pool of estrogenated executives is a bit small in the Science City.
This means that for the past few years, i’ve essentially had a private locker room for my lunch hour workouts.
It doesn’t suck.
i appreciate the privacy, and the towel service, but mostly i have enjoyed the fact that i can get naked without standing next to a pod of hard-bodied youngsters*, flexing their ripped biceps and perk-tastic breastages as they bend over to step into their butt-hugging spandex workout shorts.
It’s quieter in my locker room, too. Unless i fart. Which i can do without fear of offending others. A bonus.
There are 14 day-use lockers along the wall. For the past several years, i have settled into a mindless routine. Locker 14 is mine. Furthest from the door, it’s housed my stinky gear for as long as i can remember.
Needless to say, the day i showed up and there was another woman violating my locker with her stuff, i about had a stroke. Fourteen empty lockers and she had to use THAT ONE? Didn’t she know it was my locker? How dare she park her cotton bloomer-clad ass on my part of the dressing bench! The nerve!
Rather than do the polite thing, and set up shop in Locker 1, i picked Locker 10. Close enough to assuage my auto-pilot, but enough space that i wouldn’t have to touch her with my butt cheeks when bending over.
It all just felt so wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong! A violation of my gym “feng shui”! i wanted to tell her to move her shit out of my locker… To explain that it was my locker, despite the sign that said “Day Use Only”.
Not gonna pass the ‘crazy test’, though. Certainly when presented at the criminal trial after i get detained for wedging my cross-trainer in her ass crack. How the hell could this poor woman know that she was in my space? Violating my bubble? TRESPASSING!
i relayed my outrage to Studley, as i joined him at the bank of elliptical machines. He listened attentively, as a smirk started to creep across his face. It occurred to me that this moment marked a milestone.
i realized: i am officially old.
pic found here
*on second thought…
BREAKING NEWS: It is truly official. i have received THE CERTIFICATE.
Thanks to this creative and adorable gent, i now have something far better to hang on the wall of my office than university diplomas…
Sounds a wee bit lonely in there…I offer my service as “Towel boy” I am quiet and will avert my gaze when necessary…resume upon request….
you are such a generous, giving man… how can i ever repay you for your kindness?
i love my booze. i’d rather give away sexual favors.
Oh man! Officially old? That is just wrong. At least you are not branded officially crazy…
Once you get over the shock of having to share your “private” locker room, just think what it means that there is another ovaried person qualified for that rarified atmosphere. Actually sort of cool, you know?
pretty sure she was a retiree. and yes, in my brain there was a buried nugget of “wow!”. but did she have to use my locker? thirteen other perfectly good lockers, and she picked mine! 😉
The nerve. On the other hand, maybe it held vibes of wonderfulness you left behind that attracted her
realistically? she just wanted to be at the end of the row of lockers, the same way i do… i will be nice if i ever see her again. probably.
I’m so tired….I can hardly laugh…but you never fail me. Thanks you friend for ending my day with a laugh! 🙂 🙂 🙂
i like to make you laugh! you inspire me to dress beyond my standard “bag lady” wardrobe… boot shopping this weekend!
Did she really have cotton bloomers on? That makes me smile.
I don’t think you should tolerate the trespassing. No more Mrs. Nice Daisy. Shoot her.
yeah. she did. but i live in a bit of a glass… um… or cotton… house. i like my comfy cotton undercrackers. mine are black, or patterned with skeletons on them…. but they are cotton bloomers nonetheless…
will consider bringing firearms in the future in case she fucks up again.
Daisyfae, you are nothing if not sweet and kind and considerate. But I would have enjoyed seeing your crosstrainer in that tresspasser’s asscrack, punctuated by one of your momentous farts. Oh yeah.
she was a very nice lady. getting back to the workouts. on the surface? i was supportive and encouraging. “Yes, it IS a nice facility! Oh, and the price is right, eh?” But underneath my civilized veneer? i wanted to tie her up with my lycra shorts and slap her with my towel until she admitted that she had violated MY space…
Oh how some of this post scared me, as I recognised parts of myself I do not want to admit exist. I swim. It is a public pool. Consequently I share the change rooms with far too many nubile young women who dress by flossing their butts and dropping (or not) their bouncy little breasts into lacy numbers. Don’t they know that if I am there it is officially old farts hour and they should absent themselves. I need no reminders. None I tell you.
not one of my finer moments, that’s for sure! i forgot the butt floss. late morning (pre-lunch time) is usually the best time for us geriatrics, though. evening gym is full of the youngsters who have no outside obligations. it would be far worse for me then…
Your official certificate is in the mail.
i hope it’s large print…
Um…small, possibly picky, point…did the woman *know* it was your locker?
And old? Best way to get around that depressing thought is to take a peek in the man’s rooms. All those wrinkly bits…honey, you’ll bounce out of there like a spring lamb! 🙂
no. of course she didn’t know. because it actually isn’t my locker. which is why this entire incident reminds me that i am fully capable of moments of stark madness… 😉
Stark? As in “naked.”
i have body-image issues. “stark naked” is rare – especially when i have company. so let’s stick with madness!
My current one at the swimming pool is 45. Stupid isn’t it but habit is habit… Then you get a guy and he is using the bench near 45 so I grab another space and go get my stuff… then he walks over to 70something – WTF! Why is he there? So stupid – glad I’m not alone in my crankiness!
it’s weird, but the disruption in routine jacked my mood. momentarily, though. didn’t let it ruin my day. maybe that’ll come in another 10 years?
Does she outrank you daisyfae?
possibly… but i could take her in an arm wrestling match!
Just fart at her. Crop dust the bitch.
nothing sneaky. maybe one of those big ol’ trumpet farts. something that would blow her hair back…
Like Dinahmow said – perhaps you could personalise your locker a bit so that she’ll realise it’s taken. Although that might make you seem even more neurotically territorial.
that’s the problem. i can’t. because it isn’t mine. i did think of doing some minor damage to it to make it less attractive to others. but realized that even minor property damage would be crazy. crazier than thinking about choking someone for violating my imaginary turf…
Welcome to the dark side. At least it’s all downhill from now on.
what? speak up… something’s wrong with my earrings…
Dais, it’s war.
haven’t seen her since, so maybe she picked up on my crazy mental vibe and decided it was safer to use the regular locker room…
OoOoOo …. do you have a superduper decoder ring too?! 😉
Your reaction is exactly how I would feel.
Except, I don’t feel old for thinking that way ….. just crazy.
by god, you’re right! i’m not old, i’m just a whacknut! whew… i think….
Love the certificate!
I still say it has NOTHING to do with being old.
But then, i’m nuttier than a 10lb fruitcake.
my mom used to say that “fruitcake” line – i love it! and yes, mr. noord is talented… snarky and talented…
You should mark your territory as a she-wolf would. You do that with your men, don’t you?
if they carry away my pheromones when i’m done with them? what’s a girl gonna do?
One of the joys of reading your writing is that deja vu feeling. I hear that same voice of indignation go off in my head when the world just doesn’t get that I am queen of all so leave me be. Here’s to the hope that all lockers return to their rightful owner (daisyfae) by the end of the week.
welcome to the park, ms. gingertea! maybe it was something about growing up in a redneck suburb, thinking we were SOOOO sophisticated, that has created our entrenched feelings of Queenliness. i have not encountered the violator again… and i find myself a litle sad that she hasn’t come back (and settled into Locker 1, of course). it might be nice to have a little royal company. how can i hold court in an empty locker room?
When one has been bestowed with the burdonsome duties of Queen of All occasional solitude is not a bad thing.What in the world about my reply gave away my redneck suburbia upbringing? 🙂
your e-mail address showed up on my dashboard! i’m pretty sure i’ve tagged your sexy ass, Queenie! and i was DELIGHTED that you stopped by!
I have been creeping on your blog for months. Always brings a smile or better yet a decent or indecent contemplation.
we need to hang out together more often. but can the world stand two of us together? so glad you de-lurked!
At this point screw the world if they can’t take a good joke. I agree- I will bring the Jamison.
let’s do it! Little Zig is threatening a return trip. Let’s go bowling again!
I’ve been ancient for as long as I can remember. Which isn’t very long. Because the memory’s the first to go.
have we met? i keep meeting new people all the time. and i’m planning to hide my own easter eggs this year…
Sexiest Old Lady Ever.
[swoons] oh, lord! are you trying to kill me? my ticker ain’t what it used to be, you li’l whippersnapper!
I really love the fact that you admit that you fart.
Guys are proud of it, Gals keep it a SBD secret.
I’ve missed reading here and am trying to get back into making the rounds.
Glad I stopped by.
You made me smile.
After being on a train for 2+ hours (should have been 1.5) I needed this.
You rock, darlin’ . . . as always.
So very glad you stopped by!
Fart? Oh, yeah! i’m masterful… give me a big bowl of broccoli, a wet bathing suit, and a folding metal chair and i am the John Williams of Gastric Emissions! A maestro! Working on a version of “Star Spangled Banner” for my “American Idol” audition…
Give new meaning to ‘Rank Privilege’ yes? 😉