I am not easily offended. Especially by nudity. In fact quite the opposite and I have zero problem if a woman wants to walk around with very little clothes on and if anything I actively encourage it. I know, I am a martyr. What can I say, you are right.
Recently in Germany I was confronted with a sign that read “No shirt, no shoes, no pants…NO PROBLEM!”. I would have taken a photo of it, but…well…read on and you will understand why photography was not maybe high on the list of “Things we actively encourage”.
As I stood there in just my socks feeling decidedly overdressed (hey, they didn’t say “no socks” and I have really ugly feet so while I was completely naked except for my feet, at least I didn’t feel uncomfortable), I found myself wandering about with a load of overweight German men with no clothes on. There were no women.
There was an individual who seemed to be repeatedly scratching himself a little more than I had bargained for…at least I think he was scratching himself. The way he watched other naked men wander around the spa at the same time as having that vigorous scratch meant he was either a little less bothered than the rest of us at the utter lack of naked women in the spa, or he was needing a trip to the Dr to maybe resolve whatever he caught from the toilet seat.
I mean, it is good to share, but don’t share your flaking rash skin on the lounger where your nuts are currently sat ready for the next gentleman to sit down and rest his love marbles on. How does he explain the oncoming rash to his wife/girlfriend? “Oh yeah, I was at this spa and some guy was flaking the skin off of his nuts. Then I sat in it. And I caught what he had”. What woman is EVER going to believe this? It is grounds for divorce based on the utter lie…even though in this case would have been utterly true.
Can I just…you know…for clarification purposes…well…it wasn’t me scratching the dead skin from my body, nor the person later on resting his giggleberries on said other man’s flaked skin. Nor do I actually know if someone caught something. I was an innocent, if not slightly confused bystander looking at the potential for something really bad to happen.
I don’t quite understand where the line gets drawn. I stand in a changing room with other men, all of us feverishly drying our privates as if to get a shine so clear that the sun glows off of them and then spending about 3 seconds on the rest of our bodies. It is generally the done thing. We stand chatting while we swing from side to side while doing things and your mate thinks nothing of bending over right in front of you and as you turn around you are faced with…well…lets just say you hope you don’t find out what he had for lunch. And you then book him in for a back sack and crack wax.
So why…when stood in an outdoor spa with a bunch of guys you will never see again who can’t even speak English and because of the weather, you are all not having the best day “down there”, is it a problem? Of course, for the Germans it just isn’t. But for a pasty Englishman in his first nudist spa, well…I didn’t spend too long in there. Mostly because anyone checking in to the hotel attached…the reception looked straight out over the spa. So as you stand there naked as the day you were born (I had removed my socks by this point, I felt uncomfortable in them…they had a hole in one of the toes) thinking “Bit chilly…looking a little smaller than normal” as you look up and some young girls are checking in and looking out…well…I got an itch. And scratched.
There I was. Standing in a nudist spa. Scratching my balls looking at some 20something year old girls. I didn’t go back in to the spa later…and I repeat…I was not the guy on the lounger nor did I catch anything.
Stop judging me.
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