Continuing the moral decline from last week's spat of needless sex and violence, I bring you steamy wet naked dudes. Gene, prepare for the comment filter to 'splode.
I've gotten to the point where I enjoy showering at the gym. I'm not uncomfortable with the nakedness of myself or the sagging gray-haired men who populate the locker room at the RSF. What I object to is the fact that urinal etiquette -- the innate knowledge shared by every man, that you must always select the urinal farthest away from any other urinal currently in use -- doesn't seem to have transferred to gym shower rooms. Numerous times I've been the victim of someone inappropriately choosing a nearby shower when other, fully functional, and much farther away showers are readily available. And what's the result? Standing near another naked man, to be sure, but more importantly, splashing. Yes, millions of little water droplets, being deflected off another man, picking up some of his man filth along the way, and landing on my body, which I'm diligently trying to clean as quickly as possible. It's a bad scene, my friends.
So, if any of the geriatric early morning RSF patrons who insist on inflicting their used shower water upon me happen to read this, stop it, or I'll start breaking hips.