Something happened last week that has changed my life. Altered my entired existance. Left me feeling empty inside. I was violated.
Date: Tuesday, August 31st
Time: 15:00 Hours
Place: L.A. Fitness (Locker Room)
It was a bright, bright, bright…. bright…. sunshiney day.
I had just arrived at the gym and decided to take a tinkle before hopping on the machines (SIDE NOTE: Dear Ice Queen, are you out there? Remember how we would take tinkle breaks together at “The-Large-Corporation-I-Previously-Worked-For-That-Will-Still-Not-Be-Named-Because-I’m-Irritating-Like-That”? Miss your face. Let’s do lunch. Friday?).
Where was I? Oh yeah, bathroom break.
I quickly scurried over to the Ladies’ Room. Marched through the locker area. Passed through the glass door to the bathroom (see locker room floor plan below). Started turning the corner towards the bathroom stalls. Then “it” happened. (Yes, I used “it” again and I will continue using “it” until I get sick of “it”.)
Please take a moment to review the below floor-plan before you continue.
A small, elderly, balding, woman of Asian descent started shuffling towards me. She was wearing a pink tank top (similar to the tourist tank tops you purchase a Walgreens), khaki shorts AND she was sopping wet.
SEBWofAD (aka – small, elderly, balding, woman of Asian descent): “‘Es-cuse Me?”
Moi: “Yes?”
SEBWofAD: “You take shirt off?”
Moi: “Huh?”
SEBWofAD: “You take shirt off?” she repeated. This time pointing to her sopping wet pink tourist tank.
Moi: “Ummmm.” Oh Crap. Is this really happening?I glance back at the glass door leading towards the locker room and see several people standing on the other side (using the counter-tops/sinks).
SEBWofAD: “Shoulder bad” she indicated with a slight head nod.
Moi: “Ummmm. Okay.” I’ve gotta get blessings in heaven for this one, right?
I tugged her shirt upwards. Then, I tugged again. Obviously this is one wet tank top that wants to stay on. After the next tug, I started to get concerned that I was damaging this poor elderly woman’s shoulder even more. Deep breath. One more strong bodied tug, and it was off. I handed SEBWofAD her droopy, wet tank top and began to walk away. When “It” happened. (I crack myself up sometimes)
SEBWofAD: “You take bra off?”
Moi: “Huh?”
SEBWofAD: “You take bra off?” she asked, as she started to turn around.
Before I knew it, this woman was backing her thang up. Bringing her under-wire bra clasps within inches from my hands. Naturally, I reached for said clasps. It was the good samaritan in me. I fumbled with her rusty clasps (obviously it was her swimming bra). And, I fumbled. Great, everyone on the other side of the glass door can see me undressing this woman. Finally, the clasps unlatched. Then, just like that (insert snapping fingers) small, elderly, balding woman of Asian decent shuffled back down the hallway towards the shower stalls. Out of my life.
Leaving my hands chlorine drenched and moist. Leaving me shaking.




































































































Chit Chat