toby of the day, shaken, stirred, and very dirty

At the gym where I swim, there are two showering options. There is a large, kind of open area with showerheads lining 3 of the walls, and then along the fourth wall there are a handful of shower stalls. On the door of each of the stalls is a sign that reads “stalls are for adults only, thank you for your cooperation”. Ever since they put up the signs, I have been surveying the stalls during my shower to try to determine what adult only activities I can and should be participating in but have somehow been missing out on, like a small martini bar, stash of porn, or even an accountant eager to chide me for not having done my taxes yet. But so far, I’ve come up empty handed. Then this morning it occurred to me that maybe there are no special adult activities available within the stall, but instead that it’s a metaphor, that adulthood is a cold, gray stall where you stand alone waiting for the water to warm up. I think I much preferred the hope of encountering a nice martini, with extra olives, you know, as a reward for having gone swimming. It would certainly convince me to swim more often. Perhaps I’ll write up a little comment card for the suggestion box.