A letter to Naked Gym Lady.

Hey, how’s it goin? Good… Good. 

So uh, we usually get ready in the locker room together every morning. 

I’m the blonde who stands next to you and sweats profusely 

as I blow dry my hair and sometimes have to hold up my 
shaky, weak arm as I apply eyeliner (damn pushups!) 

I also stand in a towel, sometimes two, 

and if either one happens to even slip a little I freak out like a child in the Penn State locker room.

I know we’re all women in the locker room, 

and maybe it’s because you’re just from a different generation than me, 

but I, how do I say this… 

Sometimes your naked wrinkly skin makes me a little uncomfortable. 

This isn’t an OBGYN office, certain body parts still make me blush. 

Even if those body parts appear to be hidden in various tucks and flaps of skin

 that I don't yet have at my youthful age,
 I still know they're there, and that freaks me out. 

Maybe I’m just being modest, which I am, 

but when you bend over to apply lotion or clip your toenails,

 or whatever the hell it is you’re doing down there for long periods of time, 

I get very nervous to turn around. 
I keep my eyes fixated straight ahead, 

nervous they might burn out of my sockets if I happen to see what’s lurking behind. 

Or in front… So you got a perm, that’s awesome. 

You like SoulGlo, even better. 

But is it necessary to walk to and from your locker five different times 

passing in front of every mirror possible so all angles are exposed? 

I can’t get ready if I have to keep my eyes closed. 

You’re comfortable with your body, I get that.

 But the problem is that I’m not. 

In your prime, (30+ years ago?) I bet your fun bags were quite the hit. 

But now your fun bags just hit. 

Everything. 
The counter top, your stomach, the sink, me if you pass by moving too quickly… 

So get those things under control. 

Wear a bra, tape them up, get a frontal baby carrier sling. 

I don’t know, just keep them away from me.

 Those nipples belong on the Discovery Channel and it scares the shit out of me. 

They’re just one strip of blue paint away from being given to Jewish children as dreidels. 
Let’s work together on this one and respect each other. 

You cover up a little, and I’ll stop avoiding eye contact with you. 

We can make this locker room a comfortable place for people of all ages. 

Except kids. Let's keep them in the daycare where they belong. 

But yeah, this is great! See you tomorrow morning!