The birthday suit magnet

You drag yourself to the gym like a good girl and go into the locker room to stash your purse so the crackhead who lives in the parking lot won’t smash your car window and steal your Target purse full of used Kleenex, seven dollars and a half a roll of Mentos. You pass the aerobics room full of flailing limbs and cruise the 21st century torture-machines, looking for one that is directly under a fan and not directly under a speaker blasting Madonna squealing “Like a Virgin”. You do your time and return to the locker room, which will be empty except for the completely naked woman and her bare bum that are parked right in front of your locker.





This, my friend, is the law of the lockers.





It doesn’t matter which locker you choose in your hopeless childlike naivety; it will draw a naked woman like a magnet. The brazen nude might be big and broad and bulgy, or she might be tanned and toned and tiny. But she will be naked…and she will be sitting, or bending or lotioning in front of your locker. You can bet your inhibited little psyche on it.