I’m in the locker room trying to be careful to minimize my “space” because we all know those “space invaders” — naked on the bench (no towel underneath) or, another favorite, naked or half-naked texting.  Uh, excuse me while I try to get around your still sweating body toward my locker and change.  Skin cancer is a very serious disease and we all should be vigilant about noticing moles, etc.  BUT USING THE MIRROR AT THE GYM?  I race out of the locker room.

Now I am in the gym “proper”.

Ok. ok. ok. ok.  There is a guy who is in his late 60s, has a perma-tan and wears nylon running short-shorts (the one that really captures the perspiration smell) with one of those new-fangled half t-shirts that show off  the midrift (is that a word?).  For his age, he is in great shape.   His clothes are a sartorial tragedy. 

Not that I am much better.  I look like an anemic 40-something lawyer who hasn’t bought new gym clothes in years.  Let’s be clear that I never went for the thong look — I believe in the more covered-up the better.