Archives for posts with tag: Shower

I have really choosen a shit gym. But for 20 euros per month, shit is ok. Or is it? It does not have a sauna, which is odd for a Swede. And boring, but I guess in a gym culture where people do not even take a shower after gym, who would relax in the sauna afterwards? But at a gym where your protein drink is being picked up and delivered by a robotic arm, which by the way looks like a 90s sci-fi movie, one would expect the basics; a shower head. Not getting head in the shower. An actual shower head.

At both the McFits I have been to there were basically one thick stream of water hitting you in the head. And every two minutes, the water stops and you have to get out of the shower and press one of the three buttons on the wall. Three buttons. Three showers. Really? The first time the water stopped I had to ask for help since my body was covered in shower gel and I did not look forward to just drying it off with a towel. Thank Mae I could ask the cute and kinda inbred looking guy in the shower next to mine to help me out.

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I like showering after gym. I do it every time I have worked out. And I do it at the gym rather than at home; putting on a shirt on my body that I just sort of just dried with a towel is just not my thing. But apparently it is the Berlin way.

During my first week at McFit here in Berlin the showers were being repaired so I dried off and took a shower at home. But today the showers were working again and I was hoping to be able to write something juicy / humiliating but no. At a gym the size of four SATS Regeringsgatan it only has three showers and no sauna. So, were there a queue this crowded night? No. None. The Berlin way is apparently just to continue to dry off, put clothes on and leave into the night. That is just dirty. And not in a good way.

I have a friend, she is adorable and intelligent. She is hot and social. She is slutty in just the right way, and after speaking to her the other day, she is also Kramer. One could say that she is a multi-tasker but I choose to just state that she IS Kramer.

Eating shortly after a gym session is crucial for your muscles to develop, that is why I take protein shake straight after a gym session, it means that I do not have to rush home to eat sloppy take-away. I usually drink the shake in the shower or in the sauna which is a bit awkward to me since I never eat or drink anything else naked. Breakfast in bed? Hell no.

While Kramer installed and used a garbage disposal in the shower in one episode of Seinfeld and was also seen washing his vegetables while taking a shower, my friend, apparently, ate a chocolate enhanced coconut macaroon in the shower to make sure that the effort she made in the gym was not in vain. Oh, how I wish I could post a picture of this… almost perverted behavior on Stockholm Gym Syndrome but… I will ask her for pictures but I doubt she will respond to my humble request.

Sometimes I make mistakes. And this mistake could be misinterpreted as flirting but it was truly not; I took another guys towel in the shower. It was an honest mistake, our towels were identical: petit white towels with coloured stitching. I wrapped hos towel around my waist and walked to my locker. He came up to me, looking very, very angry with my towel around his waist.

Guy: You took my towel. That’s mine. 

Me: Oh, I am terribly sorry. They are identical. Look, even the stitches are the same. 

Guy: Yeah. But still. 

Me: Ok… do you want it back? 

Guy: It’s too late anyway. 

The guy left me in a hurry and that was that.

Once upon a time, I did martial arts. It was at a dojo north of Stockholm and it was really great people training there. I was naturally the smallest guy there and the guy running the class did not want men and women to fight each other so I had do fight the only guy who were at least almost my size. His name was H.

Part of the workout was not only the fighting but also warming up, muscle building exercises where me and H carried each other on the back and so on. Over the months we worked out together, I developed a huge crush on him, watching him naked in shower was just a nightmare. He talked casually while soping himself and I was quite quiet and shy, usually it was the other way around; maybe because this was the only time we spend alone since most guys showered at home.

The style we trained was Bujinkan which has its roots in ninja technics and it is not martial arts for gentlepersons. Any method is ok, the rules are: The are no rules! One day the teacher wanted us to learn something out of the ordinary, no katas, no new kicks but something useful. And by useful, he meant grabbing the testicles or the labia majoras and pull. Hard. I was as usual paired up with H, I looked at him and he smiled back at me. Was I about to touch his private parts? How would my private parts react to his? Would he notice? We began, still I felt like this was a cruel joke. Surely, the teacher did not want us to treat balls and labias badly? So I started to pull his black drop-croach pants instead.

Teacher: Grab H’s balls and pull! 

He meant it. I did it, softly. I looked at H’s face and it showed pain so I let go fast. He was as gentle with me as I was to him. We did not shower together that night.

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From the classic movie Sengoku Yaro from 1963.

A few years back, I hanged out with this tattooed guy. We had a quite harsh lingo going on between us, as friends, as flirty friends. One day I was checking out his slim and quite sexy arms when I saw it! His latest tattoo looked exactly like the logo of Indiska, a semi-hippie low price chain in Sweden feat walking elephants holding each others tails with the trunk. I told him, naturally and he was, naturally not amused.

The other day I went to the gym and this cute guys turned his back against me and displayed a tattoo and I am pretty sure that it was the contours of the horse logo of exclusive Swedish bed manufacturer Hästens. Why would someone do that? Is it code for “use me as a matress”? Or is a Swedish variation of tattooing the Chanel logo?

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Unlike my straight friends, I tend to run into guys I have been dating. It is probably because I tend to date guys from a small community of culture oriented queers and we move between a very limited amount of social and culture venues. The gym is almost like a safe space to me, since most of the gays at my gym are more into Lady Gaga than Jean Genet. (Even though many would not admit doing such a thing as listening to Lady Gaga since is not something gym going gay guys do. Being masculine and straight acting is the key to get laid, I have heard.)

M was this handsome man I went on three dates with. It was three non-naked dates and after the third one, no-one texted the other and that was that.

Two years had passed when I ran into him in gym shower today. We were both naked. I was not only naked, but I FELT really naked. We never came to that part of dating, no nude pictures were exchange prior the dates so this was the first time I saw his buffed body. Should I give him a hug? No. No naked hugs, that would not have been appropriate at all.

We talked standing in front of each other, butt naked, trying to pretend that we were dressed. And it was actually a quite a successful attempt and after a few minutes it felt pretty ok. Suddenly M stopped and looked at my body up and down. He asked me my how tall I was and how much I weight. I told him and he said with NO desire what so ever in his voice: “Well distributed kilos.” I went back to the feeling of incredible nakedness. It was probably a compliment but I could not handle it at all and decided to make an exit.