Shaun of the Dread

So Friday night, ShaunJ and I make a trip to our friendly neighbourhood Mississauga Valley Community Centre. So I’m trying to get through my stairmasterizing after feeling quite ill since I saw Mr. Kirsten Dunst on the cover of Teen People (which I didn't read. I'm a "YM" guy myself). And I thought the CN Tower climb was taxing on the lungs! As my Jewish friends would say: “Chaloshes! Chaloshes I tells ya!” Anywho, we go through our regular routine: checking out ourselves in the mirror and crossing off look-a-likes from our “celebrity’s-who-work-out-here” list. (This night’s celebs? Richard Moll aka Bull from “Night Court” and Andy Serkis aka Gollum/Smeagol from “Lord of the Rings.” We also noted that it has been quite a while since we’ve seen the disheveled version of Rebel Billionaire: Sir Richard Branson.) We make our way to the men’s locker room. I’m pulling all of our stuff out of the locker making my usual effort to mind my own business/block out all the other guys in there (read: nekkid) Out come my tear-aways and my back pack. As I put on my coat, I catch a glance at Shaun’s face (laugh x 1000). What’s on it? Well, the only way I could explain it was he had a look of part disgust, part scowl and a hint of disappointment. The best way I could get you to understand is like this: imagine you’re working. The end of your shift is near. Your ass is hungry - no “hunGRAY!” And you know you got some good leftovers in the fridge waiting for you at home. You can taste it! You know – for a FACT that it’ll taste delicious (“Look at him!”) because all the flavors have been mix and mingling all night. Smacking your lips, mouth watering, the whole nine! You reach home. Open up the refrigerator door and motion to grab the tupperware container only to find that the meal you’ve been craving for isn’t there. It’s gone! "FU(K!!!" Your mom threw it out... Picture it: Yeah, THAT look. So, what was he fixating his judgmental laser beam stare at? My peripheral vision (I swear I try not to notice!) picked up some wrinkled prune of a man. Buck naked old guy grooming himself in the mirror. Now Shaun and I both had this discussion before: that it is both extremely unnecessary and very gross to have some naked man blow drying his blue tinted white hair while his leather sack is resting on the counter top. Dropping all sorts of little curly hairs and who knows what else into the sink. Like Gat Damn!!! Please, couldn’t you mix in a pair of shorts? A towel at the very least? If not for the easily impressionable boys who’d think they’re not packing, then for the uncomfortable Shaun?