Sunday, October 15, 2006

CLEANING ASS
I’m often fascinated by what I see in the showers of the YMCA, I’ve no qualms about looking, and over the years I’ve seen some grooming habits that somewhat boggled my mind. Everything from someone putting olive oil in their hair to guys who cover themselves in so much baby powder it literally covers the benches and floors around them, like someone’s been baking bread in the locker room.

My favorite thing is observing the ancient custom of ass cleaning. First off, I’m glad people do it no matter what. Butts are dirty and there’s nothing worse than seeing someone get in the pool without showering and taking care of hygiene first. It seems plenty of folks think the pool is a giant bathtub to rinse off for in, a way to exercise and clean oneself. Old people especially. It makes you thankful for chlorine and lots of it. There are mostly those half attempts who suit up, and holding open the backs of their Speedos or trunks, kind of run a little shower down their backside, which to me only seems to trap whatever personal debris is washing off them right into their suits, and of course later into the pool. This is not butt cleaning and deep in their hearts, and butts, they know it.

But mostly I’m fascinated by the regular technique I see just in the showers, after people work out or need to rinse off after a hard day trolling the locker rooms.

1. The Picker. These guys at least pay attention to detail. They spend more time on their ass than anything. First the palm, then the side of the palm, then the fingers. I mean they really get in there, they’re very proud of their work. If they could they’d be giving themselves an enema. Now if they’d only learn what toenail clippers are for.

2. The Contortionist. I’ve seen this a couple of times. Showoffs who squat and do the splits, shake their bootys, making sure everyone gets a good look. It’s like a special little performance. Needs music really.

3. The Worst. This only happened once. Some really old guy had crapped his pants or something. Honestly, I didn’t even know until something that smelled deep and earthy — like oatmeal and shit — started permeating the air. It was just him and I in the shower, and when I realized it was all from him I took a look around his immediate vicinity just to see what the hell was happening. It was exactly like those times when you go to the car wash after driving around in mud, and big clumps of stuff come off with the pressure hose. It was just too much. I felt bad and tried to tell him not to dry off yet because… well, he didn’t do such a good job. But it was too late and he started drying off and pretty soon his towel was just a big old terry-cloth ass wiper. Makes me refuse to get old.