Back to Sauna Etiquette

So I shared the sauna the other night with a guy who was reading the book ‘How to be inappropriate in a confined space’. Many of the Londonders who use public transport are avid readers of this book… they’re the ones who sneeze, pick their nose, fart or stare while on a crowded train. Rather than get an angry bout of Tourrets with these cretins, nowadays I try and see the humour in it… during, rather than after the event. So I hung around in the sauna thinking ‘be positive, this could be good’. Firstly, he was slouched with his legs as far apart as possible, as though waiting for a hooker to blow him. Not that I know of the correct posture for welcoming a hooker, but I’m assuming it’s something like that. I’ll ask dad how he sits. His breathing suggested he had a big piece of flem permanently lodged in his throat… you know that type of breathing? Then he started breathing really fast as though his orgasm was about to peak (I know that type of breathing, I hear it quite a bit). Then, he started doing scissor kicks…. Scissor kicks. Why would you start doing scissor kicks in a sauna, it’s not even a stretch. Most of his body was obscured in darkness so I became intrigued to find out exactly what was causing all this commotion. Not who, but what. So I went out and loitered around the spa till he came out and I could get a look. And he was a skinny little shit with a big fat belly who waddled like a penguin when he walked. Then I saw him again in the steam room and thought, nope… I’ve got my material, enough fun, time to go home now.

Posted in Anecdote Post Comment