Boys Behaving Badly

School has been kicking my ass pretty royally lately. Therefore, I haven't been working at the gym meeting new members (and showing them how much they need me) as much as I need to be. I am in the final stretches of the semester however and I seriously cannot wait for the end.

No matter how busy I get with school - nothing comes between me and going to the gym to work out. The only thing that sucks is that I end up having to go to one of the clubs in my hetero-centric (by New York standards that's still pretty freakin gay) area. The gyms are fine but the people who go there are not as fun to look at.

So thankfully for you, my curious reader, I am able to keep track of the sordid happenings, and tonight was no exception. In fact, I was shocked at how the story seemed to be writing itself. I had just popped in to the gym for a nice cardio session, never even considering something as wild as what ended up happening would happen.

I get to the gym, headed to the locker room and to the same locker I always use. There is a latin guy, we're going to call him Jose to make things easy. He was the first of a train of guys that filtered out of the shower/steam area. His locker was near mine and his eyes were on my . . . The thing was, he wasn't shy about it. As per usual, I pretended not to notice. I put my bag away, pull off my jeans and stand there in my underwear digging for my shorts.

Meanwhile, the four other guys who followed Jose out of the shower area are dispersed in the locker room but nobody is getting dressed. I feel like I walked onto a movie set - a cheap 1980s porn set replete with the required overly tan bodies and the one guy with a strange mustache. I recognize 2 of the guys from when I used to frequent this gym. I have never seen either of them work out, EVER, but I have seen them in the locker room at least hundreds of times. They are both overweight middle-aged guys. That's no problem for me, it just helps set the context.

The guys are all standing around looking at each other, I'm putting on my sneakers and Jose is now putting on some light purple boxer shorts. I am dismayed by his poor choice in underwear. Alas, 2 of the other guys are now tucked away in small nook in the lockerroom. They seem like a couple, or like two really friendly guys.

As I am walking out - I see the guy from the other gym who was kissing the other guy. Whoa. I pretty much slowed down to the point where I was emulating the special effects from the Matrix. Why was he way up here at this gym? Does he live up here too? Is he joining in on the locker room fun?

I went upstairs and had a good hour of getting entirely sweaty. On several occasions I saw the Kisser, but he was busy looking in the mirror and lifting up his shirt. The tension between the two of us was obvious and since there was literally nobody else worth paying attention to in the gym we both took turns trying to out-sexy each other while remaining oh so disinterested in the other person.

So . . . I go back to the locker room - it's been an entire hour and the same people are still in the locker room, still in towels, still with grins and semi hard-ons pokin behind the terry cloth. Just for the sake of illustrating how crazy this was, Jose was there and he was still pretending to put on the same pair of boxers.

There was sex in the air - and everybody was breathing it in. I was definitely a cooling effect on the quasi-orgy because my face made it clear that I was somewhat disgusted. If you're going to take a locker room fantasy and make it real - you had damn well better be hot. Geez. The guys went from the water fountain to the shower to the steamroom like they were on a lazy susan. Nobody said a word. Then again, nobody ever does when this is going down.

I peel of my soaking wet shirt, shorts, socks and wrap a towel around my waist. I had no choice but to take a shower. Sad to say that it was an uneventful shower that lasted for no longer than 2 minutes. Back at my locker, Jose was sitting on the bench in such a way that I had to reach over him wearing just my towel. Only after I yanked my bag out of the locker and onto the floor did he move to the side.

By this time, Kisser had come back into the locker room. He was the only person worth paying attention to - but the whole scene was beyond my limit of sketchiness allowance. The gym was closing in less than 10 minutes and there were three guys presumably having an orgy in the steamroom. Part of me wanted to stick around to see the housekeeper break it up - but then I just figured he'd become part of the action - that's how it always happens in gay porn: the housekeeper becomes the sex slave, the gardener is actually a ho, you get the idea.

I wore cute underwear tonight - which is something I purposely do when I go to the gym. I wondered if this was misleading. It was obvious that I took time to select a good pair. Did these guys think I chose them as a signal for "hey, I want some action"? I think Jose answered that affirmatively, because, as I put on my jeans he said,
"That's some buckle you have there," pointing to my belt.
"Yeah, it can be used as a weapon if necessary," I replied.
He laughed as though I was kidding.
"Or a shield too," I added.
Clearly the imagery I was sending his way was one that indicated something along the lines of get the hell away from me you freak, but he wasn't phased. I am standing there in jeans and sneakers, digging for my shirt and he bends down to get a closer look.
"Is that 69 on there?" he asked.
I rolled my eyes and pointed out it was actually the number 63, 1963 because it's a Ben Sherman belt. That invited more questions about who Ben Sherman was and if I knew that the gap often had shirts with 69 on them.

Wow. This was a really pathetic attempt for him to figure me out. He wanted me to say,
"69? Sure, I'll 69, let's go hit the steam room and you can take off your light purple boxers again!"

What bothered me even more was that the Kisser was there. Did he think I wanted to be talking to Jose? I didn't have time to worry about it - I wanted to get away as fast as possible. I took a moment to get a last glimpse at the kisser's really nice arms and headed on up to the street.

This whole scene would have definitely freaked a lot of people out - especially the wives and/or girlfriends of these guys. I can't believe that these are out gay men doing this - there is just no way. There were no standards in mate selection, and there was bad wardrobe choices, both violations of the gay code. So, here we have boys behaving badly - living out their pre-pubescent fantasies from the high school locker room 30 years after the fact.

Welcome to the big Show(er)

Time got a way from me today and I found myself way downtown with no gym clothes at 8:22 p.m. All of the gyms close at 10 so I was feeling screwed. The MTA Gods were smiling tonight however because I managed to get home in time to grab my gear and head right back out to the nearest club. I got to the platform and the MTA Gods decided to frown and I waited, and waited, and waited. It was 9:15 before the train came to sweep me away so I got to the gym with only 37 minutes to get good and sweaty.

I scampered down the steps toward the locker room. It looked like a nuclear blast had blown every single towel into the air and they had landed all over the place. I've never seen a locker room this trashed in my entire life - and I have seen a lot of locker rooms. I tiptoed through the towels and found my little nook.

Now one thing is certain - I can get naked really fast. I had my belt off and pants undone before I set my bag down. I was out of my jeans and into my shorts within seconds. I strapped on my iPod and headed toward the bathroom area to go pee so it wouldn't dribble down my leg while I was running.

I turn the corner and see that the first shower was occupied - and that's never a good sign. That shower is placed in such a way that the person inside the shower can see into the locker area and every person who goes to use the series of sinks or the bathroom. It's the voyeurs shower and the gaping hole(s) in the curtain make that more than obvious. However, today's Showman was vying for another option. He had the curtain pushed at least six inches open.

Now I have no interest in seeing this production, but something about it made me glance. Maybe it's because I like live performance art and this guy was definitely performing. I didn't have time to really think about it at that moment.

I had a great intense 30 minute cardio set and got nice and sweaty running a hilly 5k. The gym staff already turned off the lights in the club and were yelling at the 10 or so people finishing up. I headed back down to get my bag and noticed that the peeping tom shower is still running. This guy was still at it! After I walked by the opening toward the shower room (the voyeurs field of view) the water turned off and I swear to you it sounded as if somebody was smacking their hand against a wet back over and over again. Take a moment to imagine that, and then let your imagination run a little . . . yeah - this guy was having a good time and wanted people to know.

By this point I had to investigate. I mean come on now - the gym is closed and we have a naked man in the shower. I went back into the bathroom area and got more than a glimpse of our wet star.

So most people would assume this type of guy would be of a certain pedigree. People would guess he'd be an unattractive, awkward, gangly cretin. This was not the case. Would you believe that this character was an early 20s, decent looking, well built guy? He was. How crazy is that? This guy had no shame. On my return trip from the urinal he was waiting in the shower stall with his towel over his shoulder (um, not around his waist). We made eye contact and he cocked his head back in a way that suggested, "hey, come here." This was supposed to be hot like in the movies, but it wasn't. It was creepy.

Well there you have it - on any given night, like I said before, there's something going down in the locker room. But the part of this story that amazes me is that from the outside this was a guy that most guys (and girls) would want to date. I wondered about what this guy does for work and if his coworkers suspect his a hardcore exhibitionist. I also wondered when he planned on getting his naked wet ass out of the gym since it had closed before even I left.

Maybe he had a bad day and just wanted some companionship, but all I know is that once I left he had two choices for an audience: a wrinkled raisin of a man, or what appeared to be an overweight rabbi. I have a funny feeling that he was going to keep on trying to show people what he was "up" to, regardless of who those people were. He had already been in the shower for at least 35/40 minutes and wasn't phased by the many guys walking by and glancing nonchalantly his way. Nobody said a word about it and even the ultra macho latino folk who love to toss around heavy weights in the weight room just walked on by while he was going to town.

A lot of people are going to tell me, "that doesn't happen at my gym," and to them I say, "bull crap." For some reason when you put a shower in a room with a bunch of guys, at some point somebody is going to feel the urge to put on a show. I wonder how this particular one ended? The scenario I envisioned as I was walking home and laughing about the night was one that involved the gym's housekeeping guy coming into the locker room to pick up all the towels that were freakin' everywhere when he sees our little, errr not little, showman.

And the rest . . . well you can finish that on your own.

This Lock is Your Lock, This Lock is My Lock

After having 5 back to back clients tonight I headed up for my own workout at a different location. Nothing out of the ordinary - that's how my Wednesdays always go. I've been stuck on this new location for a few weeks now and the whole experience is pretty surreal. The gym is never crowded, the locker room is nearly always empty, and since there is no steam room, and no showers facing each other there is little or no cruising going down.

It's the sort of place a lot of people imagine gyms to be like but it's the sort of place that I have found to be a complete an utter anomaly. Couple that with it's location (in the heart of gay mecca blocks away from the birthplace of the gay movement) and it's baffling . I guess if you take away the chance to see some hot guy getting soapy or steamy most guys won't come.

So tonight I expected the same thing. I thought for sure I would see some of the regulars, including the kid who is obsessed with his love handles but I was wrong. It was a pretty new batch of folks. There was one guy who was moderately distracting. He wasn't distracting in the "my ipod has to be loud enough that everybody can hear it over their own ipod" or the more popular "I have to throw these weights down and watch them bounce into your space because I'm an asshole and have a small penis and need to overcompensate by lifting weight I can't control" way. Instead, he was distracting in a good, motivating way. I found the need to study his arms and the perfect vein running up and over his bicep to the pure white v-neck shirt that was pulledtaut across his chest.

I'm sure you want the story to turn out involving some hot times on the weight bench but after my first 3 sets of shoulder press I forgot about this guy - I was on a mission and the workout was in high gear.

It was one of those extra euphoric times at the gym. About a quarter of the way through I was pumping away and my heart was beating itself silly. By the end I was nice and sweaty through and through. Nothing beats these moments after a workout, your abs still burning, walking a little funny and everything a little pumped up.

I sauntered into the ghost town of the lockerroom all Western style, my Nike Shox serving as my hi-tech cowboy boots. I went to my locker and tried opening my lock. One try, no luck. Hmm, maybe I'm going in the wrong direction, a second try, no luck, a third, fourth - I forgot my combination?

I looked to my left and realized that I was trying the wrong locker. As I moved to the locker next to the one it seemed I was trying to break into I noticed a pair of sneakers that weren't my own down by my feet. I turned to the right and a guy quietly said, "excuse me," as he started to open the lock that had my fingerprints all over it.

Crap.

I didn't hear this guy come up behind me. Did he see me trying to open his lock? Did he think I was trying to steal his jeans? He didn't say a word about it. In this whole entire huge empty lockerroom he and I had to occupy the same tiny corner sharing the same awkward silence.

The silence was killing me. In any other club there would be some conversation going on, a shower running, steam room a steamin' away - but here I was - presumed guilty of breaking and entering by this guy who was clearly too shy to do anything about it. I wanted to laugh it off and say something like, "geez all these locks look the same" but figured that since my lock had a black face and his had a blue face - he would probably see that as a cover up for my fantastic scheme to break into his locker. In my defense, my lock prior to this one did have a blue face.

So I head to the shower, he's still at the locker. During the whole time that I got naked and toweled, he hadn't even removed a sneaker. He just rummaged through his things. I'm telling you it was an awkward moment all around.

I'm getting nice and wet in the shower when the shower curtain right next to me opens, the water turns on. What the hell is going on here? There are at least 7 showers in a row and he picks the one right next to me?

Was this flirting? Did he take my attempt to break into his locker as an attempt to break into his heart?

Back at my locker I dried off quickly. I moved my crap out of his way and pulled on my jeans pretending not to notice him. I got dressed quickly in awkward silence. The entire time he was still standing at his locker in his towel just digging around in his bag. I headed away from my locker, and as I am about to turn the corner, the same voice I heard before says "Hey . . ."
I cringe slightly and turn my head.
"you forgot your lock."

Livin' Libido Lockerroom!

No matter the moon phase, weather, or time of day, there's always something (or, I guess, someone) going down in the locker room. With the exception of one gym location that I recently discovered, every other visit to the gym(s) either for work or for working out includes seeing a hook-up in the making. These sightings typically involve one or more of the following techniques:

• stares that last a little, or a lot, too long
• the more crafty "I'm going to look in the mirror but actually check you out instead" maneuver
• explicit gestures (e.g., grabbing oneself, pointing at one's "goods", or even bumping into somebody else's "goods")
• towels that somehow fail to cover appropriately, or fail altogether and fall to the floor
• outright explicit verbal invites to conserve water
• slightly opened shower curtains; or, the more ambitious and becoming more popular, the fully opened shower curtain technique
• silent advances that aren't rejected, also known as "the code"

I have seen all of these in play - and some with successful results. To be clear, I have not acted on any of these - ever. Other than looking at someone every once in a while who is cute, hot, muscular, tan, dark-haired - I just wrap the towel around and do my thing. I do like to watch the drama unfold in the locker room and I'm often astonished at who participates in the games. There are actually some pretty good lookin' guys who do some pretty outrageous things.

I was in the steamroom (being innocent, virginal, and pure as always) when this guy comes in and sits a little too close to me. Generally speaking, I like to keep wet, naked strangers at least least 18 inches away. Alright, so maybe it does depend on the stranger. Anyway, this guy is sitting there for no less than one minute when I start to feel his stare in my direction. I didn't need to turn my head to feel the brightness of his round face pointing in my direction. It seemed as if Medusa was staring right at me -- I was frozen still. With just my little towel wrapped snugly around me, I closed my eyes.

I heard the door open but pretended not to notice. I decided I should remain perfectly still, that's what I learned in Cub Scouts for avoiding bear attacks and by the looks of who entered the steam room, this strategy was was the appropriate one. He was unquestionably a Bear. I thought the entrance of a third person would quell my wet, naked, creepy neighbor's staredown. I was right, he was no longer looking at me, his gaze shifted immediately to Mr. Bear and this Bear wanted his honey. The furry one made eye contact with my neighbor, knelt on the tiled step in front of him, moved his towel (which I presume was now a tent), and, well . . . you can imagine the rest.

I have to keep on imagining the rest right along with you -- I didn't stay for the show.

I always get different reactions from people when I tell them I didn't stay. Some think I should have, some wish I would have, others think I shouldn't have gone in there in the first place. All I know is that I was amazed at how fast it all went down. There were no words exchanged, no names, no handshake - just quick action. This was a busy time of day at the gym, the locker room was full, other guys surely walked in after I left. For all I know, and I do suspect, that steam room got a whole lot steamier after my departure.

A lot of guys I talk to aren't surprised by any of this, and honestly I'm not surprised anymore either. Here is a sampling of actual Craigslist postings from the past few days. See what you're missing by not going to the gym?

Posting 1: So close, but no -- ummm . . cigar?

To the guy who invited me into the shower at NYSC:
All the showers were in use, I was waiting behind you. When a stall became available you asked if I wanted to share with you. I was tempted but then another became available and I took it. I regret it now. Let's meet up there again and try for a happier ending! Tell me which location it was so I know it's you.

Posting 2: The Steamroom Cinderella Story. This guy left his kiss on somebody and wants to find it again, and again.

Were you in the steamroom today at an NYSC? Were you the guy I kissed? If so I want to kiss you over and over -- you are one hot guy. Drop me a line with location and time to prove it's you and we'll take it from there.

Posting 3: Three's Company. But this company went out of business.

You were the total hottie that was in the steam room at around 8:40 or so. Originally there were 4 of us in there, but then the other 2 left and that is when we started to play. Unfortunately we were interrupted when another guy walked in and we never could get things started again. You were simply beautiful and I would love to do it again! What other days do you work out there? Describe me and yourself so I know it is you!

Posting 4: Sadly I call this the "All Too Common." It's the standard gym hook-up post -- but this one is exceptionally sketchy so I deleted some words (you'll figure it out). If you're offended by fingers that wander -- don't read it.

attractive horny guy here, thick ____, nice face, 5'11, 150#, tattoos, dark hair, love _____ with a guy and even getting a finger up my _____. _____ off across the shower hallway with a hot dude at w80 last sunday, looking for the same scene.

Showers Make You Clean - They Can't be Dirty

Taking a shower is the dessert if your work out is the main course. It can make or break a perfectly good bout of exercise because you're usually in it while you're still in that blissful state of: worked so hard my body begged me to stop mode. Granted, my SGF (straight girlfriend) refuses to take a shower after she works out because she likes to play this whole "I'm an innocent Southern girl, chaste and pure" act (we'll get to that in a later post). However, for the purposes of this entry, let's assume you're like me and you enjoy the sweet pleasure of hot water gently caressing your supple skin.

Ok so at the gym this "event" takes place in a semi-public way. I think it is interesting to see how guys navigate this area.
On a normal day, you have a handful of guys all in various stages of undress, towels strewn about, a mysterious funk in the air, and the humidity level of Florida after an August rain. There is hissing from the steamroom and sound of the shower water hitting the floor.

No matter what there will be a locker lizard, towel troll, whatever you want to call him - he's only there to hang out in the lockerroom and follow guys to the shower. Yes, this happens on a daily basis at pretty much every gym in the city. It's usually an overly tan chubby guy who has no shame about looking down at your crotch.

You go into the shower, thankfully there are stalls at the club and not a gang shower like in high school (sigh . . . I wish I went to school with Mario Lopez) and there really isn't anything out of the ordinary.

The one thing you will notice after you turn around to get your back wet is that there are several holes that were torn into the curtain. It is clearly obvious by the ever so conspicuous eye-level location they were made to be "peepholes" for some curious chap who wants to see some man-goods.

Now I refuse to believe that my fellow gays are out here ripping tiny holes into the curtains of shower stalls - it's easy enough to get some good old fashion gay lovin' in New York City.

So who are these voyeuristic bandits?

Choice A: It's the married guys.
It has to be the married guys who are so insecure about their own inabilities to satisfy a woman with their meager goods. They're dying to see the competition, they're born and bred on the American ideal that bigger is better - and that investigative pursuit been happening at the urinals since Kindergarten.

Choice B: It's the "straight" guys.
Any perusal of craiglists will provide you with more than a few postings from "straight" guys who want to check out another guy while he showers.
It's not really a noteworthy day when you walk past the showers to see guys poking their heads out . . . both of them.

Choice C: It's the "not-so-hot" gay boys.
This is probably sad but true. We're a nasty bunch and let's face it - seeing naked wet guys never gets boring. If you're not getting it every morning when you watch your boyfriend (or boyfriend for a night) shower - you have to be resourceful. If nothing else, the gays are a resourceful bunch.

Nonetheless, there are peepholes in every single shower curtain, and you don't even have to pay a quarter.

Warming Up

For me, it all starts with picking the right locker. On a typical day I walk into the lockerroom and look for a little nook to spread out my things and get down to my naked self. I like to have some privacy, but not so much privacy that guys may suspect I'm hiding something - or a lack of something.

I do take time to plan out what underwear to wear to the gym. This is a critical decision, yet one that a lot of guys I've seen at the gym lately have not taken the time to consider. On a typical day I see way more Hanes and Fruit of the Loom than I want to. I am a tighty-whitie fan for sure, but there are enough better versions out there than the clunky, clumpy standards than come in sets of three and in a plastic bag.

Come on guys, there are benches in two long rows -- this is a runway and your choices matter.

So - I had the unfortunate experience of ending up next to a guy who, by all standards (I'm not even using the much more highly selective gay standards), broke every rule of lockerroom underwear fashion.

This guy was wearing his triple XL pair of blue Hanes OVER his belly. When I was young I used to wonder what I would do if I suddenly grew a belly. Would I be tucker and snug my underwear up under my belly or would I go over it. I truly never thought people would choose the latter, but this guy did. He looked a lot like a globe, with the southern hemisphere completely covered in a skeevy ocean. I choose ocean because when he put his foot up on the bench, his waves were jigglin' in front of my face.

Ah, just another day at the gym.