Why at the Y?

I joined the YMCA last week and fell in love. It is amazing. Might be the best gift Santa has ever given me. Thanks, big man.

My first day, I walked into the locker room to see a completely naked, wet woman. Not only was she standing in the middle of the locker room with NO shame in her game, she was folding her clothes and taking her sweet time to repack her gym bag. IN THE BUFF. While I admit that I am Modest Milly, it is strange to me that her first priority was not to put some clothes on! So, as I walk past her, I am awkwardly pretending to sort through my gym bag so as not to look anywhere near her. I go to the handicapped stall and begin to change my clothes (Yes...Modest Milly does change her clothes inside of a stall and not in the perforations of the locker room like most normal folks. Don't judge.)

As I notice a tan mirage float past the crack of the bathroom stall, I see that not only is she now washing her hands IN THE BUFF, but I notice that she has taken the time to put on her shoes and socks. That's it. Just shoes and socks. I guess she didn't want athlete's foot...COME ON! I don't want any of those other things that the rest of you might be passing along!!

She stood in the mirror washing her hands and taking her sweet time. So, now I not only had to avoid looking at her in real life, I also had to avoid looking at her reflection. I have never found my hands being washed so fascinating. I just couldn't take my eyes off of them. =)

While I am sure that Stella Streaker is a very nice person, I can honestly say that I hope I never see her again.