Attack of The Cheesescraper
March 12, 2007
I think the last person I complained about in the gym was shaving in the nude (which would have been fine if he wasn’t fat, old and ugly). Today’s incident was a little more disturbing.
I’m in the showers after the gym – they’re communal – and I feel these eyes on the back of my neck, or somewhere. It wasn’t quite the same as being gawked at, it was actually a little more creepy than that.
So, next time I turn around I see this guy who looks like a fat Uncle Fester, paying a little too much attention to his bits and pieces.
In fact, while the rest of him was wet, only his genitals were soapy. His look darted from this soapy mass to me, and back again.
Massaging, rubbing, squeezing.
I didn’t take a good look, and frankly there wasn’t all that much to look at, but I’m pretty damn sure he was cleaning under the hood, and that’s just going a touch too far for the gym showers if you ask me.
He could have been circumcised, but I have Experience in these matters, the colour of the glans is a pretty good indication and I don’t think he was, with this bright pink thing poking out.
In itself, that may not have been so bad, except that by the time I’d showered, shampooed, rinsed and was drying myself he was still there, still at it and had spent most of that time either looking at his cock or at bits of me.
You do not need to spend that fucking long cleaning anything, not even for an annual cheese-scrape.
Nobody else was in there. It was creepy. I half expected to get jumped from behind.
I don’t actually mind being gawked at, in a nice way. It’s all good conversation for the rowing machine, with Miss Chick.
“Guy at 2 o’clock checked me out last week!”
So, I have to wonder what he was playing at. I just don’t know. All I can offer to wrap up this post is the following advice to Mr Under-the-Hood Cleaner:
“You wanna stop playing it so much, Mary, or it’ll fall off!”