The Bobble Tolls for Thee

I am a 42 year old male with a wife and two children. I work out at Lifetime Fitness in North Dallas. Like most men, I am fully aware of the awkward insecurities and homophobia that permeate the men’s locker room at any gym or public restroom. I typically maneuver my way through the restroom like a Blue Angel flying in formation trying not to touch wings with another pilot. However, there are always the unabashed naked rovers with all the modesty of Caligula who frolic about like they are in a Thai bath house. Usually these are older P-51’s with damaged landing gear and spent ammunition. One such older gentleman works out at my gym. He typically changes in my cluster of lockers.

One morning, I couldn’t help but notice that he brandished a bobble around the end of his…fuselage. Like a salmon swimming upstream, my eye caught the glint of something shiny and out of place. I focused on it for some time before I realized what I was starring at. I was hooked. I heard him speak up. It startled me back to consciousness.

“It’s a cock ring”, he said.

Mortified I quickly diverted my glance. He giggled a little bit. I was grateful because he broke the ice and let me off the hook. Now at this point, I should mention that Lifetime Fitness has cold hard granite benches between the lockers. He sat down on the granite and I heard the bobble clink like a beer bottle in the recycling bin. It clinked several times as I turned my back and continued to get undressed. I grabbed my towel and ducked into the steam bath.

Some of the old timers at the club figured out that by placing a towel over the thermostat in the steam room produced an inordinate amount of steam, blinding in fact. I situated myself in the corner and endured the heat and steam for about 12 minutes. I was light headed and loopy from the heat. My heart rate slowed to a crawl. I was fatigued. I heard the door open. Someone walked in and took a seat on the other end of the steam bath. I heard the now familiar clink. I sounded like my neighbors cat lost in the fog. The steam was so thick that I had about 1 inch of visibility. I wanted to appear open minded and indulge my curiosity. I was comfortable enough after sharing a giggle with my new found perverted acquaintance; I asked the question that was “bobbling” around in my head.

“Do you have to roll that thing back when you have sex?”

The question was followed by awkward silence; no reply only steam. I waited and my fears were confirmed as the steam cycle ended and the room dissipated. I found a entirely different gentleman with a metallic water bottle and a cap attached by a carabineer clip. At this point he’s was just staring at me. 15 seconds had passed in gut wrenching silence. I looked down at his water bottle resting by his side. Once again caught in unfamiliar territory, I could not help but notice that the gentleman that now sat naked and alone with me in the steam room was unbobbled but also uncircumcised. I wanted to die. Like a panicked squid squirting ink to confuse and disorient it's enemy, I said the first thing that came to my lips: “You’re not my Dad.” I shamefully walked out of the steam bath and hid in a shower for no less than 20 minutes.