“Stop me if you think you’ve heard this one before…” (Part 6)

Posted: February 22, 2016 in In Transition
Tags: , ,

Everybody has phobias of some sort.

Some people are afraid of spiders while others are afraid of, say, flying, clowns or the dentist. Some weirdoes are even terrified of chickens (Alektorophobia).  Lord knows I suffer from a touch of Globophobia myself, or the fear of balloons (don’t ask).  But, lately, in recent years I’ve also developed a healthy dose of fear for hot tubs.

Yes, hot tubs.

I mean, I used to use them.  When I first joined the gym I would really look forward to those post-workout soaks in the locker room.  I literally spent hours in it. Shit, sometimes I would pack a picnic basket, skip the workout altogether and just spend the entire day completely enveloped in the hot, soothing bubbles of the Members Plus hot tub.

It was absolutely divine.

Kinda like this:

Okay, maybe not quite like this.

Insert some old dudes in for the bikini-ed women and tubes of Bengay in lieu of cocktails and, yeah, it was probably more like this:

Regardless, I still liked it well enough after a good workout.

But then – not so long ago – I happened to show up to the gym anticipating a good relax in the tub following one of my long, cold winter runs and, low and behold, it was closed for “maintenance”.

Shit.

Sure there was still a sauna I could use but a sauna doesn’t have bubbles, does it?

Hells no!

And who can relax without bubbles, amiright?

Anyway, there I am in the shower casually watching the guy “work” on the hot tub (coincidentally, I was also trying to avoid the Black Mamba – click HERE) when to my immense horror, I watched him fish out what looked to be an entire rodent of some sort from out of the drain.

“What the fuck is THAT?!”, my brain screamed.

Was it a beaver?   Was it a CHUD of some sort?

Whatever it was it was fucking nasty.

Then it dawned on me: what I was actually witnessing being extracted from the drain was a huge tangled mass of graying old geezer pubes.

I instantly started dry-heaving and the maintenance guy only looked at me momentarily and winked an acknowledge as if to confirm my horrific realization.  I felt exactly like detective Frank Thorn must have felt when he suddenly realized what main ingredient in Soylent Green was (click HERE).

Of course, not willing to simply let it go I decided to dig a little deeper if you pardon the expression).  As it turns out, you can pick up some unappetizing and even dangerous bugs from a dip in the hot tub, both from the water itself and also from the steamy atmosphere around it.  Unlike a pool, the warmer temperature of a hot tub makes it more difficult to maintain the proper disinfectant levels that kill certain germs.  One common germ is ‘Pseudomonas aeruginosa’, which can result in an infection called ‘Pseudomonas folliculitis’, or the aptly-chosen nickname, “hot tub rash”.  The rash often follows the shape of a person’s bathing suit, and is characterized by itchy spots that develop into a bumpy rash, as well as pus-filled blisters around hair follicles.   Another more serious condition is the potentially fatal ‘Legionnaires’ disease, a type of pneumonia caused by a germ called Legionella, which is found in water (especially warm water) and can be breathed in from the steam or mist surrounding a contaminated hot tub – people older than age 50, smokers and those with weakened immune systems are particularly susceptible.

But here’s the real coup d’etat: did you know that the average bather has about a tenth of a gram of feces in their gluteal fold, which is a nice way of saying ‘butt crack’.  So what that means then is with only five people, you have about a tablespoon of shit in the hot tub.

Yeah.

Since that time, I’ve been pretty spooked about stepping foot in the hot tub – any  hot tub. Now, every time I see a group of naked dudes relaxing in the sauna all I can pictures is that tangled mass of nastiness and know that it’s not longer a “hot tub”, it’s a huge steeping bowl of crotch soup and there’s absolutely no fucking way I’m ever subjecting myself to that evil recipe.  So every time I hit the showers now I will inevitably give the hot tub a wide berth as it were a bomb that might go off at any second.

Anyway, fast forward a few years to about three weeks ago and I’m enter into the showers at the local YMCA after my Masters spin class.  As per usual, the hot tub has about 2-3 guys in it all enjoying the hot water and jets.

Except one guy who, well, let’s just say that he was enjoying it just a bit too much.

He wasn’t just sitting there lounging around with his arms draped over the side of the tub as it the common posture when soaking in a hot tub.  No, sir!  He was getting right down and dirty into the water itself – up to his eyeballs – like a hippopotamus enjoying the watering hole on a hot day.

Every time he submerged himself all I could picture was that tablespoon of ass residue that he was inevitably getting a faceful of.  Take about a “facial”. This would even make the most grizzled German fetishist quiver in disgust. The whole scene made me was to mash a fistful of Quaaludes into my mouth and burrito myself in a wool blanket in the middle of a field somewhere to away fate.

And then it happened….

Upon going all ‘Hunt for Red October’  around on the bottom of the hot tub for a few seconds (God knows why), he resurfaced and fountained a stream of water out of his mouth and all over himself like a happy elephant cooling himself down on the African plain.

I was all:

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Oh, but he did!

I probably turned whiter than Marshmallow Fluff and instinctively clutched the towel to my chest in complete horror like I was protecting a briefcase full of stolen state secrets.  I think I might have even threw up in my mouth a little.

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