OK, I’m actually complaining about the patrons… To wit:
- The lady who was sitting in the middle of the highly-populated stretching area whilst reading a novel. And, no, she was not stretching – just kicking back and gettin’ her read on. I did my best to get my sweaty fumes wafting in her direction…
- The guy who repeatedly spent ten minutes hunched over his Blackberry in front of the penny-lockers, constantly checking his what were sure-to-have-been very important text messages – presumably along the lines of “I’m working out – what about you?” This was annoying in-and-of-itself – but he was also blocking my access to my preferred corner for stretching my scrawny arms….
- The dude in the locker adjacent to mine, who required three stools and a four-foot radius to spread out his various towels, gym clothes, salves and unguents, while I daintily tried to squeeze past to doff my gear.
- The pièce de résistance: the dread-locked fellow who emerged shiny and dripping from the steam room and then parked himself in the passage to the showers and vigorously and repeatedly whipped his head forward and back, spraying all and sundry (including yours truly) with the effluvia from his grimy braids. Seriously, my gag reflex got quite the workout – I should’ve just puked on him. Oh, he was also directly in front of the towel hooks, so all the poor saps who’d hung their towels whilst showering were treated to an unwitting rub down with his tonsorial essences.
I will never understand people…
It's a Complete Outrage 
I love a good dreadlock story. I also loved the Y, but was never brave enough to use the change room for actual showering……. If that is how MEN behave, imagine the WOMEN???
I vomited in my mouth reading about dreadlock man. Repulsive does not even begin to describe it.
I kept thinking about what his bathroom at home must be like… I imagine the walls are covered with splattered hair juice and look like the scene of particularly gory homicide…
Please, I beg you, STOP using the term “hair juice”………