The techno remix of Stevie Wonder’s “I Just Called to Say I
Love You" blaring out of the cheap tiny speaker above my locker was a not
a good omen for a night at the sauna. As it turned out, the locker room was
empty, the showers were empty, the steam room was empty. And the Jacuzzi was
empty too. I splashed in, nevertheless, and sat on my own. Tired and stressed,
I welcomed the bubbles in the whirlpool. Soon I was joined by an
"older" gentleman - though probably younger than me - whom I found unambiguously
unattractive. To my relief, he sat at a distance from me. We ignored each
other.
Another man joined us in a moment. He was younger, slightly hairy, with
a fashionably beard. I found this one
more attractive, especially when he took
off his towel to enter the water. But I was dismayed when, with no hesitation,
the younger man sat as close as he could to the older gentleman, without even
looking at me. The men’s face expressions clearly indicated that something was
happening under the bubbles. Something that was making the older gentleman
uncomfortable; so uncomfortable, in fact, that he left the Jacuzzi almost
immediately. The younger gentleman kept ignoring me. To express my disapproval, I stampeded out of
the Jacuzzi.
On my way to the dry sauna, I bumped into the third customer of the night, an exotic creature I would have never expected to find at this establishment. Long black hair and high heels, stockings, black shiny knickers and a feathery bolero falling over the pale flat chest, she batted her long eyelids seductively at me with a shy tilt of the head as she walked past.
Up and down the corridor to the dry sauna, marched an athletic man in red Speedos. He stopped opposite the facility and looked through the little square window on the door. The corridor was dark and the light coming from inside the sauna made it look as though he had the face of a scary monster, grotesque and distorted. Or was he wearing something over his head? As he stepped back and my eyes got accustomed to the poor lighting, it became obvious that he was wearing a Mexican wrestler's mask. Red. Matching his Speedos. He approached me, stared at me and asked mysteriously:
'Is that Turkish?'
I shrugged.
'Or Swedish?'
I made a mental note: it was early October. April 1st was long past and we were more than three weeks away from Halloween.
'Or is it a Finnish sauna?' he continued.
He was serious. I shrugged again and entered the sauna. Luckily, he didn't follow.
Another man joined us in a moment. He was younger, slightly hairy, with
a fashionably beard. I found this one
more attractive, especially when he took
off his towel to enter the water. But I was dismayed when, with no hesitation,
the younger man sat as close as he could to the older gentleman, without even
looking at me. The men’s face expressions clearly indicated that something was
happening under the bubbles. Something that was making the older gentleman
uncomfortable; so uncomfortable, in fact, that he left the Jacuzzi almost
immediately. The younger gentleman kept ignoring me. To express my disapproval, I stampeded out of
the Jacuzzi. On my way to the dry sauna, I bumped into the third customer of the night, an exotic creature I would have never expected to find at this establishment. Long black hair and high heels, stockings, black shiny knickers and a feathery bolero falling over the pale flat chest, she batted her long eyelids seductively at me with a shy tilt of the head as she walked past.
Up and down the corridor to the dry sauna, marched an athletic man in red Speedos. He stopped opposite the facility and looked through the little square window on the door. The corridor was dark and the light coming from inside the sauna made it look as though he had the face of a scary monster, grotesque and distorted. Or was he wearing something over his head? As he stepped back and my eyes got accustomed to the poor lighting, it became obvious that he was wearing a Mexican wrestler's mask. Red. Matching his Speedos. He approached me, stared at me and asked mysteriously:
'Is that Turkish?'
I shrugged.
'Or Swedish?'
I made a mental note: it was early October. April 1st was long past and we were more than three weeks away from Halloween.
'Or is it a Finnish sauna?' he continued.
He was serious. I shrugged again and entered the sauna. Luckily, he didn't follow.
