I had just finished performing a matinee and had a block of time before I was to meet a friend for dinner and watch an evening play. So I dropped by a nearby gym to sit in the whirlpool and steam room and then have a nice shower. The primary reason for my gym membership is obviously to exercise, but I love having this side benefit of being able to search up a nearby location and have a refresher without having to drive home.
There were two other men in the steam room when I entered. One was trying to stretch and exercise – which multiple warning signs tell you not to do, but men are men and must constantly push the limits in order to prove that they are men. Similarly, the other man was pouring water on the heating element to make more steam – which multiple warning signs also tell you not to do, but men are men and must prove that their manliness demands more steam than the average man.
Eventually, water-pouring man actually exited the steam room and then re-appeared a minute later. My guess was that he had sought out the controls to turn up the heat, because it got noticeably toastier inside. He then sat back down by the heating element and proceeded to pour more water on it.
So now we were all cloaked in thick white billows and I was getting damned uncomfortable. My throat and lungs were burning each time I breathed, and even leaning forward hurt my muscles. Am I the only one who feels this? I wondered. Is my body so unaccustomed to this that I am past my tolerance while these manly men are just getting to where they are happy?
The warning signs advise you to limit yourself to 10 minutes at a time in the steam room, and I had planned to stick around that long but this didn’t feel good anymore. Since it didn’t feel good and it was quite possibly unhealthy, I did what came naturally to me and walked out.
Ten seconds after I walked out, so did the other two men. One of them was saying to the other in a joking tone: “Ahhh! Caliente chingada!”. Which doesn’t really require translation.
And I thought You god-damned idiots! You were just as uncomfortable as I was, but your stupid machismo kept you prisoner in there until I made it safe to walk out by being the wuss. They could neither admit error nor danger, and would only do the sensible thing after I had provided a vehicle for them to off-load their shame.
I guess it’s a role somebody has to play – we take mockery from fools, even as we’re keeping their dumb asses alive.