love saunas. Always have. The way the heat works its way into your bones, how it compels you to relax, the feel of "sweating it out". It's a treat to allow myself that time to just sit and let the sauna work on me. I guess it's a similar to the way that some people love to soak in the bath.
I think I inherited my love of super-high-temperatures from my Dad. During my childhood, we'd occasionally get to stay in a 'posh hotel', often as a result of my Dad's work schedule - and we'd all gleefully avail ourselves of the leisure facilities - much to the po-faced disgust of the fare-paying regulars, dismayed at the sight of a young family invading their sanctuary. After goofing around in the pool, we'd always try the sauna, and my Dad would outlast us all, emerging victorious with a grin and a rosy glow.
All fine and good and wholesome. But saunas have always had that 'nudge, nudge, wink, wink' suggestion of something that's not quite 'proper'. How can saunas be above-board and respectable when there's all that exposed flesh?!
But when you overlap 'sauna' with 'gay', there's a whole new dynamic. Benny Hill becomes sexual bacchanalia.
Now, I for one, am not going to get prudish about the jubilant expression of same-sex desire.
After all, most of us (of that persuasion) have had to endure long adolescences (and more!) where the options for expressing those desires were few and far between. No wonder we want to go a little crazy, reveling in the freedom to Get. On. Down when the constraints are lifted. We're the proverbial kids in the candy store.
I guess, in times of yore, when the gays weren't Gays, they were just Men Who Have Sex With Men. And MSMs tended to find other MSMs hanging-out in single-sex environments, where clothes were less constricting....hence the role that cottages / tea-rooms / beats / bathhouses / saunas / swimming ponds played in the early expression of same-sex desire, and the nascent development of a cultural identity around 'the love that dared not speak its name'.
But for those of us lucky enough to live in the isolated havens of gay liberation (like San Francisco, London or Sydney) however, things have moved-on. The Love That Dare Not Speak Its Name is now grown confident enough to be The Love That Shouts About It From The Rooftops. And many are the opportunities for exuberant expression of our same-sex desire.
Hallelulah and gaymen to all that. It's progress. And what we fought for.
full of backrooms, pick-up joints, porn theatres and other venues that are explicitly designed for sex-on-the-premises. And it's not like we don't have a multitude of online possibilities. (I have no problem with people cruising Grindr in the changing rooms, which I see quite frequently...) As for people who like to smoke...please use the smoking section. For those who like to play, please use the designated 'play areas'.
So. Here's the rub. I enjoy going to the gym at a (predominantly) gay gym in San Francisco. I prefer it. There's none of the testosterone fuelled-swagger that you get from the guys in most straight gyms. Of course, there is a clear 'pecking-order' from the hottest, buffest gym god down to the lowliest skinniest (or chubbiest) wheezing whimps. But, there's a cameraderie and lack of bravado that I like.
But.
I can't use the sauna. Well, I *CAN*. But to feel comfortable, I have to do it outside the peak hours of 4-7pm. Why? Well, it's a gay space. And at those times, a critical mass of horniness is reached. And suddenly we're back to bacchanalia. You know those gays. They're Up For It 24-7. Can't get enough of it. Can't help it. Untrammeled Martini homo-sex.
And so I can't just sit and sweat - because there's more than relaxation on the minds of most of the sauna users.
Now. My first reaction was a Hugh Grant-esque British bumbling apology. "Ah! Sorry! You want to, erm...jerk-off! Yes. Of course. Excuse me, didn't mean to - erm - intrude. Carry-on! I'll just, erm, I'll just erm. Leave. Sorry". I didn't want to spoil their fun by being a kill-joy, not wanting to participate and not wanting to 'rain on their parade', so I just - ahem - withdrew.
But, now I'm getting peeved. I pay good money to use a gym, and all of the facilities that it provides. There are PLENTY of places to get off in San Francisco - I mean, the town is chock
full of backrooms, pick-up joints, porn theatres and other venues that are explicitly designed for sex-on-the-premises. And it's not like we don't have a multitude of online possibilities. (I have no problem with people cruising Grindr in the changing rooms, which I see quite frequently...) As for people who like to smoke...please use the smoking section. For those who like to play, please use the designated 'play areas'.
Questions:
1. Am I being a prude?
2. Am I being unfair? They were there first...shouldn't they be allowed to carry on?
3. Does being gay mean that free-wheeling sexual expression is the norm?
4. If I go to a gay gym, is that just 'par for the course'?
