Sunday, June 26, 2011

Lotion Girl

I don't honestly know why I thought about this story.  I have tried to shove it back into or get it out entirely of my mind before, exorcise it from my soul.  Pretend that I never saw it.

Some things just can't be unseen.

But I did.  And it's back.  And I'm sharing.

You. Are. Welcome.

When I was in college, I was so tremendously busy that I am frankly amazed at how much I got done.   In between everything else I did, I went to the gym religiously.  4 or 5 times a week. 

Sometimes I went with my roommate, more often I went alone on the way home from class or work.  The afternoon hours were the ones where you were most likely to encounter her, this lady of which I write today.

Lotion girl.

Those of you who went to college with me will remember her, I'm sure.  You don't easily forget someone like this.

I never saw her in the gym, or maybe I just never noticed her there.  There was, to be completely honest, absolutely nothing remarkable about her physically.  I probably did see her all the time on the machines, and never gave her more than a passing glance.  She was ordinary.

Inside the locker room, though, I saw her.

All of her.

All the time.

She was one of those people completely at ease with her nudity.  One with her body.  Comfortable letting it all hang out.  She'd itch and scratch and stretch.  She'd stroll to the bathrooms, to the showers, brush her hair and put her makeup back on naked.   No towel, no underwear.  Nothing. 

None of those things really caught me as weird though.  The thing I remember most vividly about her is the lotion. 

Oh, the lotion.

She had to apply lotion to every single square inch of her perpetually naked body.  It was not a quick process.
Even the places that you wouldn't think you really need to rub lotion on.

Oh yeah, those places.

Got the visual yet?  Okay good.

It seemed like it didn't matter what time I got to the locker room, or what day or the week it was, or the time of the year.  I always arrived just in time for the lotion application.

To apply the lotion, there was bending and leg raising and vigorous rubbing.  It was like a train knew you weren't supposed to watch.  That you were supposed to will your eyes away.  Look at something, anything else. 

It's hard though, when some girl's crotch is right there, getting greased up for the day's business.

In some ways, I admired her.  She clearly had no self image issues.  At all.  Proud of who she was.  Owned her flaws.  Didn't give a rat's ass what anyone else saw or thought. 

In others though, I wondered why.  Why are some people that way, when most of us aren't even remotely close to it?  Why do all the rest of us slide our swimsuits off only when the towel is securely wrapped around our chests?  Why do we hole up in the corner of the locker room and wait for the room to clear out before changing quickly? 

Why did she spend so much time naked?

How much money did she spend on lotion?

I can say with complete honesty that I've never showered in a community shower.  I have in the locker rooms with stalls and curtains, with hooks to hang towels.  Where there was at least an illusion of privacy.   

But the giant room full of shower heads and naked?  No thanks.  No one needs to see that.

And I promise that I never have and never will grease up my crotch in view of another person. 

Again, you are welcome.

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