Ever hit the "next blog button on blogger over and over while you avoid television reruns just to see what is out there in the world? I did, and what I found mostly, are Kiddie pics. Which is all good and all okay with me, but what I was really looking for were a few stories I could drag back to my place and share. A well written anecdote, worthy of a few minutes of time. Well, I found a few. And since I've first recieved permission confirmation from Kyria, who has her blog-- http://kyriaabrahams.blogspot.com/
She gets to be my first featured BLOG SLOG DISCOVERY--
She calls this piece--
GYM SHORT. ANECDOTES FROM AN ASTORIA LOCKER ROOM
She holds out a palm of New York Sports Club brand hand lotion. "Is this soap?" she asks me.I chuckle. An easy mistake. "Oh, no, that's the lotion," I tell her. "Soap's in the dispenser.""The... where?"I point to the soap dispenser above the sinks, between the far-too shiny and accurate giant mirrors (I avoid those mirrors, and have been avoiding them for over a month now. The faerie-magikal mirrors that seem to whisper Trust us... if you want to leave your house tomorrow, don't look at yourself here. Wait until you get home and the bathroom is foggy and the light is dim. We are not meant for you. We are meant for that woman behind you. The tan one who didn't need to wear a shirt over her sports bra, and inexplicably works out in a g-string. We are elven mirrors and you are not of our kin...)The soap dispenser, meanwhile, is of this modern styling:minus the artfully strewn yellow roses (because somebunny loves you!!) and the word PULL on the handle. Which, perhaps, is the problem -- because she stares intently at it, but continues to not have soap in her hand."This?""Yep, that's it."She starts pushing on it. Pushing on the handle with two forefingers, and looks back at me, befuddled."Um. No," I say say helpfully, "You need to pull. To catch it in your palm."I mime the motion, and realize it looks dirty. Like I am a sleezy old man saying "Gimme some sugar, lady who has never seen a soap dispenser." She cups her hand upside down, but continues to push. "Um. Pull. You need to PULL. With your fingers."My palm upturned, my fingers grab the invisible soap handle and dispense invisible soap into my extremely visible hand. See?She makes the same pulling motion underneath the dispenser. A good start, except that she is not actually touching the handle. She's simply pumping her fingers in and out, in and out, below the dispenser, as if this contains an extremely particular motion sensor. "You... Um. Okay. You need to pull on the... no... no... Oh!"Now shes pushing with both hands. Both hands pushing on the handle, neither one cupped to get the soap.I've unintentionally moved into full blown baby-voice mode. I say, gently, warbling, "Whoops! Almost! Almost got it! See, you're going to have to catch the soap when it comes out. See my hand...?I make the grab-ass motion again."See how I'm doing it? Like that!"She stares at my hand.I reach to the dispenser because I am at the point where I am going to wash my hands again simply to show her how to do this.Then she cuts me off, reaches in front of me and... triumphantly... dispenses soap."Ohhhhh! I see! Okay! I get it!"She laughs. I laugh. We both laugh."You have yoga?" she asks me."Um. I...""I just started here. You take the yoga?""Ohhh, no, I haven't taken the yoga class. I'm sure it's very good, though."She laughs. I laugh. We both laugh."Thanks!" she says."You are welcome. Enjoy yoga," I say. I do not add, "Enjoy knowing how to use a soap dispenser for apparently the first time in your life."Thirty seconds later she is asking a naked woman, "You do yoga?""Ask at the front desk." the tan-lined woman responds."No. But I am asking you. You yoga?"The woman turns away and does not answer her. A long silence follows. I stare at my hands. They are so very, very clean.