Tuesday, May 17, 2016

The Locker Room

Equal rights activists would have us all believe that men and women are all created equal; that we are all unmistakably similar to each other - apart from the obvious whosits and whatsits galore that differentiate the genders. On this I would certainly beg to differ.

A generalization of course but stereotypical males and females aren't the same. Time and again, apart from the handful of unique individuals, it has been proven that they can be as distinctively different as the proverbial Mars and Venus.

Take for example something as simple as the locker room. Chances are very few of us  - yet again apart from a minority - would have the opportunity to appreciate the differences prevalent in both.

Let me take you through the stereotypical men's locker room in the gym. Just like everyone would expect from a den of hairy, fetid men, there's always an inescapable whiff of testosterone-soaked perspiration prevalent in even the cleanest of locker rooms; immediately redolent of sweaty nights in the less than sanitary boy's dormitories. Apart from the dirty socks and shoes stashed in the oddest nooks and crannies, the benches and tables are otherwise almost spartan to the extreme with nary an accessory apart from the rudimentary hair dryers already provided.

Step into our locker room. 

No doubt you would expect pretty much the same from the girls' side of the gym - but you would be heartily mistaken.

Since there was an inexplicable plumbing issue going on on the men's side that needed urgent repairs, I had the select opportunity granted to visit the forbidden other side - with the female private trainer initially checking the rooms out to make sure it was empty of course.

Forget what you've seen in the men's room. Despite the fact that I do occasionally enjoy the hunky fellows stretching and flexing in front of the full-length mirrors ostensibly for my salacious perusal, I might be tempted to defect to the girls' side after this short experience.

Nope, girls aren't boys. Not in the least. Trainers and shoes were all perfectly arranged in rows under the benches. The tables were bedecked with legions of delicate perfumes and deodorants; counters filled to the brim with dozens of gels and shampoos - all of which left the entire locker room smelling like an elegant, high-class boudoir. Colour-coordinated towels were all folded neatly in their place in one corner. It was like an exclusive branch of Sephora had finally opened up here.

Not what I would have expected from the angry, grunting Amazons that frequent the gym!

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