Day 173: Werewolf in the Shower

So, those who know me too well understand my general aversion to public restrooms.  I inherited my fear of germs from my mother, and for the first probably 22 years of my life, I learned to "hold it," no matter how bad I needed to go, until I got to the comfort of my own home.  In general, I will still wait unless I have no other choice but to use public facilities.

Working out at a gym is particularly gross, but as I have said before, I have put everything on the line for the lifestyle.  I have had to overcome pretty much all of my fears of germs to exercise in a place where people profusely sweat and smear their germs everywhere.  Showering is a particular problem for me, in part because of my fear of germs and in part because I am actually relatively modest (if you have ever seen an obese man running down the street without a shirt on, you will agree that it is a good thing I am modest).  Showering at the gym, for me, is an unfortunate must, given that I simply smell too bad to do anything else after I work out.  So, to protect myself, I have a special pair of shower shoes and my feet never actually touch the tile of the locker room floor.

I say all of this to set the stage.  Today, I walked into the locker room, got my stuff to shower, walked to the bay of showers (there are eight separate showers at my gym, four on the left and four on the right of a fifteen or twenty foot hall.  All of the showers were taken, including the usual one I use, except for one.  I am not happy about this (there is something I like about being able to choose my shower).  Anyway, I step into the shower and into horror.  The entire shower is covered with dirty suds from the previous showerer's shower.  I immediately know why no one has chosen this shower, and my fists clinch with rage.

Now, when I say "the entire shower is covered with dirty suds," let me elaborate.  The shower is about ten feet tall, and there are suds all the way up the wall, all inside the little alcove that you can put your shampoo on, on the shower head (I mean, come on, the shower head?), on the little lever to turn the shower on with, on the inside handle of the door, and of course, all along the floor (about three inches high in some cases).  Seriously, it looked like a werewolf had been in the shower just scrubbing away.  I have no idea how someone did this, but this is America.  People do new and amazing things every day.

Honestly, I don't know about you, but the thought of someone else's suds all over the shower I am going to use just disgusts me.  After letting out an audible gasp, I carefully tiptoed into the shower and turned it on using only my pinky finger (the only finger small enough to turn the lever in the one spot without suds on it).  I then cupped my hands together and started flicking water all over the shower head and the shower lever.  Once the shower mechanisms were clean, I proceeded to wash away as many of the suds as I could, though I could not reach the really high suds, and there were so many at some point I had to start washing myself and stop washing the shower.  In the end, I really did not help the situtation much.

Frustrated that I may have been contaminated by another man's germs, I quickly showered myself and stepped out to go change.  All of the shower stalls were still occupied, and there was one man waiting to get into the shower.  I walked past him, trying to not think of mess I had just found myself in.  I was quickly reminded, however, when the man waiting walked into the shower stall, and, just as I turned the corner, audibly gasped "What is this?"  I am sure he thought it was me that made the mess . . . .