Public Indecency and A Fear Overcome

[[Warning: This is a true, dramatic, and PG-13 rated story. No names have been changed to protect innocent booty. Roughly specific times are given for dramatic effect.]]

Back in January, I went to my first Racquetball PE class. Since all we did was go over some basics, I opted to get on one of the ellipticals for 20 minutes and work up a real sweat. Afterwards, I adjourned to the locker rooms for a shower. To my surprise, the showers I found were... open. Six shower heads, one open doorway. Opposite the showers is a mirrored wall for us sassy girls to do our makeup and blow dry our hair. From the mirrors, you can see almost straight into the showers. Fortunately, no one else was around that morning - so I hopped in for an approximately 25.7 second scrub down. Comfort with my body has never been my strong suit.

That night, as I was reflecting on the first day of my second semester of graduate school, I thought of Leslie's experience in Japan going to the baths with one of her former students and that student's mother. These baths are a relaxing place to be experienced in the nude. I thought of my own experiences with my high schoolers. I love them dearly, but I'm hard pressed to imagine a situation with which I'd be less comfortable with them. Impressed by Leslie's confidence and (in my personal opinion) epic bravery, I shared with her my frightening public, very UNrelaxing, "bath" experience, and promised to pluck up my courage, sing a show tune and enjoy a longer shower.

Every day after Racquetball for the past 2+ months, I have hiked up my canary yellow towel and grinned as I choose a Broadway-inspired selection on my march from my locker down to the showers. Amazingly, it wasn't until this Wednesday that anyone was actually in the shower with me. As I turned into the recessed chamber, another girl followed after me and took the shower head across from mine. "Bring it on!," I thought to my self-consciousness, like a poker player raising the stakes in a bluff. I turned on the water, flung the towel over the rail, hummed my Broadway tune... and beat my previous 25.7 seconds stand. 93.2 seconds in, another girl game in and took the shower head down from mine. Both of them stayed in their bathing suits, though one did pull hers down to rinse off. "Ha!" I laughed, humming faster and keeping my huddled body turned to the wall. "They don't have a naked best friend on their side to give them confidence!" (Yes, I'm aware of how perfectly lesbian I sound. I don't care.) I finished, toweled off, and carried on with my day.

Friday, I had some extra time in my day after a meeting with my Soil Chemistry lab group and professor, so I stopped by the gym for 35 minutes on the elliptical (score one for increased cardiovascular fitness!). When I went back to the locker room, I noticed a scale down the hall (this is a large place, mind you). "What the heck, no one's around," I decided, and traipsed my way down to weigh in. Down 9.5 pounds from that first day of Racquetball. Humming whitely something about how good it feels to be a gangsta, I turned and noticed something white fluttering down another hall. "That's odd," and, for the second time in a minute, "What the heck, no one's around, I'll check it out."

There's a row of personal showers with shower curtains.

For the exposure and confusion of the women who have witnessed my self confidence build at their eyeballs' expense, my profound apologies.