Locker Room Manners and Mannerisms

Locker room etiquette (or lack thereof) never ceases to amaze me. If Trinity's locker room was a restaurant, it would be called IHOP- the International House of (Im)Propriety. There are four kinds of women in the locker room:

The Speedsters: (like myself) women who have probably spent all of their lives showering and dressing in locker rooms. Can get get clean and presentable in fifteen minutes or less. Eyes are politely cast down until at least one layer of clothing is on. Not going to lose sleep over an exposed bum cheek. Conversation with friends, but do not speak to naked strangers.

The Prima Donnas: otherwise known as lacy bra girls. These ladies wear lacy bras and make-up to the gym, and are more interested in a chat in front of the mirror than an actual workout. When the gossip runs out, they take an inappropriate amount of space on the bench with multiple bottles of sweet-smelling concoctions and sparkles, and spend the next hour and a half primping in their locker-room-transformed-salon. Be careful, you may get sprayed with their Peaches-and-cream-and-strawberry-cotton-candy perfume.

The Prudes: more often than not North American, these woman either get un/dressed in the bathroom stall, or manipulate their clothing in such a way that they can get completely naked without anyone seeing an inch of flesh. Often do not bother showering for fear of exposed skin.

The Aspiring Nudists: these women are cross-continental and 110% happy in their birthday suits. They parade around the locker room au naturel, sit inappropriately close to strangers, and have can often be found staring at other subjects in the buff, making all those in proximity uncomfortable. (Recently when sitting on the bench and putting on my shoes, I was almost hit in the head by a Nudist's boob)! They enjoy talking to strangers while stark naked and grooming themselves.

You should have to take a locker room etiquette class before joining a gym, or maybe those with bad manners should be fined. It would probably cut down on boob attacks and unwelcome staring... and maybe I could avoid smelling like a coconut.