So, I was in the dry sauna at my gym the other day, after working out. Yes, I was. Stop doubting me.
Anyway, I’m sitting in there in a towel, and the place is packed like Staples Center at a Lady Gaga concert.
Across from me, a skinny blond woman, fully dressed down to her shoes, is talking on her cell phone. Loudly, not that you have to shout to be audible in that sauna, which is approximately the size of your average Mazda back seat.
We won’t even get into the issue of why people go into the sauna fully dressed. I find it mystifying, but whatever floats your boat, though I’d prefer you not to put your shoes on the benches.
What is aggravating is being forced to listen to other people’s phone conversations while you’re trying to relax and maybe meditate a bit while you sweat in the dark.
“Yes, Jennifer, I told him that,” the woman says into her receiver as I walk in.
I just look at her and then implore, “Please don’t talk on your cell phone in here.”
She looks up at me and, instead of leaving the sauna, she says, “Jennifer, this woman is telling me to get off my phone,” in an outraged voice, as if I’d said, “Strip naked right now and do sit-ups.”
She looks up and says to the entire sauna, “Usually, Jennifer is here with me, so that’s why I’m talking to her.” As if somehow that matters.
I tell her, “That’s fine, but we don’t want to hear it, so please step outside.” Another woman, lying on the bench in a towel, agreed she didn’t want to hear it either.
The caller just ignored both of us and kept on talking.
Now, this is a situation where my inner brat comes out. My inner brat that is no longer regulated by any fake politeness, now that I’m in my sixth decade.
Truly, those of you who are dreading getting old, it has its rewards. Like, you really don’t give a bleep what people think of you anymore. So you get to do all sorts of things that are not socially correct.
For the last few years, my theory has been that…