Saturday, April 02, 2005
Don't Buck The Trend
I'm unsettled by the unthinking efforts of others. I mean what is it with the guys who allow their young female off-spring to enter the male changing rooms of my gym and innocently jolly about amongst so much naked male flesh.
Apparently all children should be out of the changing rooms by just a little after six o'clock in the evening. Female children are not allowed in the male changing rooms from the age of six. This rule surprised and unsettled me. Six seems a little old for young girlies to be free to cavort innocently around too much naked male flesh. Once a sense of curiosity exists, it's a little late for this little dispensation. And I was indeed unsettled to find some of these little bunch-haired, beaded and ribboned imps frolicking with girlish glee in and around the changing rooms and showers on my arrival the other day.
Fortunately, I had only to remove a pair of jogging bottoms before I was clad for action amongst the modern torture chamber appliances which stood upstairs waiting for me. But despite that, the scene was still a little too revealing and I soon spotted a few scary examples of brazen tackle-out, mixed with coy displays of the last few turkeys in the shop and the odd gleaming, not to mention some even odder, hirsute backsides. Not the kind of scene anyone would use to describe an ideal kiddies play area and surely potentially damaging or at least uncomfortable to all the unwilling participants involved, (everyone there except of course the selfish parent).
We're no good at this altogether thing. This isn't Sweden. Nor was it meant to be.
Apparently all children should be out of the changing rooms by just a little after six o'clock in the evening. Female children are not allowed in the male changing rooms from the age of six. This rule surprised and unsettled me. Six seems a little old for young girlies to be free to cavort innocently around too much naked male flesh. Once a sense of curiosity exists, it's a little late for this little dispensation. And I was indeed unsettled to find some of these little bunch-haired, beaded and ribboned imps frolicking with girlish glee in and around the changing rooms and showers on my arrival the other day.
Fortunately, I had only to remove a pair of jogging bottoms before I was clad for action amongst the modern torture chamber appliances which stood upstairs waiting for me. But despite that, the scene was still a little too revealing and I soon spotted a few scary examples of brazen tackle-out, mixed with coy displays of the last few turkeys in the shop and the odd gleaming, not to mention some even odder, hirsute backsides. Not the kind of scene anyone would use to describe an ideal kiddies play area and surely potentially damaging or at least uncomfortable to all the unwilling participants involved, (everyone there except of course the selfish parent).
We're no good at this altogether thing. This isn't Sweden. Nor was it meant to be.
// posted by garroo @ 3:51 pm 
