Puddintopia

I was going to write some fiction tonight, perhaps see if the thirsty man could get up off the tile, but it turns out the fiction takes more effort than just spouting whatever nonsense comes to mind. So, instead, I’ve decided to break out a new, hopefully recurring feature here at Puddintopia: Questions I Want Answers To. The premise is simple: there are many, many things in the world that just don’t make any sense to me, and dammit, I would like some answers.

Several things have plagued me since my youth, but there’s only question that I can recall having all the back in first or second grade: could they not come up with anything better than the term “husky” for boys’ jeans with, um, a little extra room? I mean, really, when you’re a little dude kickin’ it up in the early elementary grades, life is rough enough without having to carry a label that’s simultaneously synonymous with dogs and pudginess. Your formative school days are spent trying to figure out why anyone needs to understand the “schwa” sound and then later having to dodge little “Jenny” on the playground (because she’ll kiss you, in the most embarrassing way possible, if she catches you), so clearly, no one needs to have to the carry the additional burden of a label that basically means “rotund”.

I know, I know. There are moms out there squealing delightedly about how their little busters are all burly and growed up now, and denim manufacturers cling to the idea that well, hell, it’s better than just smacking one of many other, potentially more derogatory, words on the label of those jeans. But really, isnt’ there a better way to address this, some method to avoid having shy 10 year-olds everywhere looking in late August at their respective new fall wardrobes and muttering to themselves, “stupid huskies”.

For adult ladies, we reward the little people with terms like “petite”, or “junior” but there’s no shame in shopping in “ladies” or “women’s”. For adult men, it’s simply S-M-L-XL plus as many X’s as you can fit on the tag. “X” is cool, it’s just a letter; if you look it up on thesaurus.com, it doesn’t carry any synonyms, let alone “big”, “whopping”, or “thick-set”. Sadly, though, for children, for some reason, we have to have words to describe the sizes: “slim”, “regular”, “husky”, or for girls, horrifying phrases like “pretty-plus”.

At this point, I know you’re wondering, so, yes, I, myself, bore the shame of wearing the dreaded label. Hello, my name is Puddin, and I wore “Husky” jeans. Was it really all that bad, though? Was I fearful, at the tender age of 10, that I might someday be relegated to life as a circus-freak novelty like those twins on the motorcycles from the Guinness Book of World’s Records?

Honestly, no. Little boys couldn’t care two ways what the back of their pants say. But, man, husky jeans did have stupid little kid snaps and big boy jeans had pull-though buttons, like Dad’s. I hated those stupid snaps and every time I read the label, the snap was all I thought about. When you’re a little dude, let’s face it, life is about attitude, and nothing gives your attitude a foundation like having clothes just like Dad’s.

Dear Mr. and/or Mrs. Doe,

It has come to the attention of this Fitness/Spa/Health Club-type establishment that you were recently witnessed engaging in the act of Locker Room Streaking. According to the by-laws of Basic Human Decency, Locker Room Streaking (LRS) is defined as “the act of moving freely about a shared locker/dressing area with no apparent haste while proudly displaying one’s full nude form with a complete and utter lack of any discretion whatsoever”.

We would have hoped it go without saying that his practice is frowned up not only here, but in just about any other location you may find yourself on the face of planet Earth.

In an effort to further clarify the understanding of reasonable, decent people everywhere, we’d like to illustrate a few key points relevant to the guideline stated above:

1. Contrary to your apparent personal beliefs, no one wants to see your junk.

No, it doesn’t matter how fine you think you are, God gave you parts that no one should be subject to besides your parents and, potentially, loved ones. No one here is either – cover that stuff.

2. Real, live, post-workout, post-shower “junk” is not attractive, even on airbrushed Super Models, and trust me here, you are not an airbrushed Super Model.
3. There is no known shortage of wool, and towel production facilities are continually manufacturing excellent quality linens capable of covering your…parts.

Seriously, take that white fluffy thing off your head and wrap it around yourself…they’ll give you another one, Scout’s Honor.

So please, in the interest of preventing good people everywhere from having the image of your marginally maintained naughty bits seared permanently into their brains, cover your damn self whenever leaving the shower area.

Also, in addition to our “this isn’t your bedroom, so no naked strolling” policy, we would also like to offer these few handy reminders to make everyone’s post-workout dressing experience more pleasant:

1. If your locker neighbor is seated on a bench, bent over, tying his or her shoe, please wait an additional moment or two before dropping that towel when reaching your locker. Nothing says “surprise!” like finishing up a loop-loop-swirl shoelace routine and then lifting one’s head and being greeted at eye-level by a complete stranger’s “baby maker”.
2. Dressing rooms are full of mirrors, and mirrors reflect other mirrors. Just because no one is looking directly at you, that doesn’t mean no one is seeing you (see item 3 above regarding towels).
3. Anatomical “privates” are not the only objectionable thing found when undressed. Many of us belong to a fitness organization expressly because, well, we need some damned fitness. Our shared dressing rooms are no place for a Jello commercial, so don’t be slapping anything to watch it wiggle or see it jiggle.

We greatly appreciate your assistance in keeping our club beautiful by covering your a%! up. Your compliance with these guidelines will not only ensure that all of our members continue to enjoy their fitness/health club experience, but also that no one needs to contact Sargent Taylor down at the precinct, who has been itching to make a stop in since he got an unexpected eyeful last week.

Sincerely,

The Executive Board

[Author's note: many thanks to a friend who actually was the victim of an LRS experience earlier this week. We're all praying for a quick recovery, but the damage can be quite scarring!]