Mary Margaret And the Man in the Women’s Locker Room

 Mary Margaret   is the guest blogger this week

JoAnn Williams~~~

The so-called bathroom bills are nothing but veiled attempts to malign a segment of the population.

There is no evidence the transgender population poses a threat to women and children. Self-serving politicians who try to pass mean spirited legislation are another matter.

Why just last week a man showed up in the women’s shower at the gym. It all began when someone heard a male voice whimper from one of the shower stalls, “Am I in the women’s locker room?”

Billie Sue, who is meaner than a snake hollered back, “Can’t you read? Of course, you are in the women’s locker room.”

Lillie Mae, in the adjacent shower, asked if he had his swim trunks in the shower with him. That’s when it got interesting. The man responded he did not have swim trunks; only a small towel. Lillie Mae dislocated her hip trying to scramble for a better view. She’s always been man crazy.

Thelma Jean swaggered closer to his stall in her usual threatening stance and snarled, “You mean to tell me you swam buck naked or did you throw away your swim suit on the way to the women’s locker room?”

It became clear that the man’s attempt for a stealth peek at women backfired and he was trapped.

Lucy who owns the Kut and Kurl Beauty Shop, hollered, “Do not let that man out of the stall until I’m dressed. My reputation will be ruined if it gets out I was trapped in the gym locker room with a naked man.”

Thelma Jean snarled back, “It wouldn’t be the first time you got caught in a room with a strange, naked man.”

By now, the man in the shower realized he was not fooling with helpless females. He began to consider the merits of staying in the stall until the gym closed and a janitor could rescue him.

Molly, who is the soul of kindness, assured the man he had nothing to fear. She said, “I’ll count to three and you can come out and run into the men’s locker room. We won’t look.”

Well, If Molly thought a bunch of hell raising women were going to pass up checking out a naked man holed up in our locker room, she was nuts. I was sure as hell going to look.

As the man exited the shower stall with small towel strategically placed, a hastily formed line required that he run the gauntlet from the women’s locker room to the lobby entrance of the men’s locker room.

Sue Ellen said. “I don’t know what the entire flap was about. The UPS guy has a cuter butt.”

I think women can handle just about anything without help from the government.

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My Life is Science Fiction

My life has become science fiction.

Will I become one of those woo woo people who sit up all night trolling the net, bleary eyed, eating hot and spicy cheetos with crumbs dribbling from my chin  jamming my keyboard?

Am I going to turn into the crazy lady who finds hidden meaning from pigeon poo rainbows in mud puddles?

It all began the other morning when my spouse told me about his dream.

“Au contraire”, saith me, that was MY dream.

Type A control freaks develop a major anxiety attack if they believe someone is hijacking their dream.

We have been married since god was a girl and finish each others sentences. This is a source of great frustration to both of us.

He perceives it as rudeness on my part not to wait until he finishes whatever he is saying.

I perceive it as sparing him the effort to say something I already know he is going to say.

The dreams were almost identical in subject matter, except his had more detail. I prefer to get to the bottom line faster even in my dreams.

We have some shared telepathic experiences. I can hear a tune in my head and soon thereafter, he will start to either whistle or hum the same tune. The dream thing had me flummoxed so I did a bit of internet research.

I discovered there are very strange people in the universe. While I admit to a certain degree of weird I do have boundaries.alien-1295486_640 (1)

One site offers a meet and greet where one can hook up with other woo woo people to see if they will have the same dream. This is worse than phone sex.

I will go to any length to avoid someone I can’t stand. No way am I going to take a chance on running into them in a dream.

On another site, a woman went into detail about a shared dream that included her entire family. Some things should remain private and there is a case to be made for oversharing with family.

I don’t think my spouse was pleased that I shared his dream. He is concerned his life long preference for measured words may be at risk and could evolve into putting his foot in his mouth.I do that quite a bit; a consequence of what happens when you’re not supposed to say that.

I guess that explains the silver bullet and garlic pod I discovered under his pillow.

 

Pigeonholed in the Eye of the Beholder

I got Pigeonholed.

My husband laughed as he told me one of the neighbors, a single dad, asked if I would have any interest in babysitting his two young girls.The only time the man sees me is in our building parking lot.

Do I look like a babysitter? Is it the massive flash of silver that sits atop my cranium?  I’ve escaped resembling a Shar Pei so it’s gotta be the hair.

He assumed I’d be a potential candidate for childcare based on my hair color.

I’ve been a granny for many years. I tell my age when asked; it’s a big number, but no big deal.

What is a big deal is when other people make assumptions based on their perception of an older woman.

I quit my last volunteer job when they assigned me to geezer friendly chores. I sucked it up while the coordinator demonstrated how to use a computer mouse.

She gave advanced instructions on using the manual paper cutter, then asked, “Think you’ve got it?” I bit my tongue instead of informing her it wasn’t quantum math, and left.

Our house hasn’t been kid friendly for twenty years.
  • Judging from the parochial school sticker on the man’s car, I have a hunch that he’d find my reading selection unacceptable. The only Mother Goose in my house is me.
  • Sybil, the cat, tolerates me and hisses at children.
  • I don’t bake cookies. That’s why God invented Central Market.
  • No way am I going to play endless rounds of Go Fish and Cards Against Humanity isn’t kid friendly.
  • grandmother-153657_640Vodka:30  is a daily event, no exceptions except sometimes it’s Tequila:30.

Why didn’t he ask the hot chick that lives next door to him? For all he knows, she may be desperate for extra income.

I wish him luck in finding a sitter, but he might consider trimming his  beard.

You never know how people perceive men with unkempt beards.

 

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