You're gonna be that guy?

Spent a nice, relaxing lunchtime at the gym, doing gym-type stuff, and then headed to the locker room to get ready to go back to work.

As I sat down on the bench in front of my locker, I appreciated the fact that 24 Hour Fitness puts TV's in the locker room. With these TV's, you always have a place to look that isn't awkward and you can also spend your time listening to people talk about things that you may or may not care about. For instance, on the TV as I looked was a chap named Michael Smith, on and ESPN show called "Around the Horn," who was discussing where Terrell Owens might land, as Philadelphia finally kicked him to the curb.

It was then that I was reminded that the TV in the locker room is a double-edged sword. Random Randy, a few feet away, decided I looked like a good person to strike up a conversation with (as I was shirtless, and in the midst of pulling down my gym shorts).

"Sucker," he exclaimed, either talking about the fool that would sign T.O. to a contract, or about the fool waxing pseudo-wise on the TV -- it wasn't entirely clear. "I'm from Philly, we [expletive starting with F]'ing hate that guy there."

I wanted to turn to him and say "Really? You're going to be that guy?"

Instead I hemmed and said "not surprising," referring to Philly-fan's hatred of T.O., while quickly grabbing my towel and locking my locker so that I could retreat to the relative safety of the showers.

Men are well acquainted with the rules of the bathroom. Many don't understand that these should generally be considered to apply to the locker room as well. Exceptions can me made for when you are there with a friend, or when someone's blocking your locker, but generally you should keep your trap shut, especially when you're considering talking to someone you've never met before, and then especially when they're nigh-naked.

After I got out of the shower and grabbed my towel, I noticed the guy looking my way. This was just a little too creepy. I adjusted my position to gain the cover of a well-placed wall as I covered my bits and pieces, and then scurried to my locker to quickly clothe myself. When I started to walk out, I found that my new Philly-Fanatic Friend was long gone, but his dirty boxers were on the floor in front of his locker.

I don't know why he left them, and I don't care to.

Anyway, point is don't be that guy. Ever. Or I might just have to blog about you.