If you haven't been to the East Greenbush Y, one can assume it looks pretty much like any other... though I have over heard some "y talk" in the whirlpool about which Y is best, and while the EGY is "not the cleanest" it is favored among many promiscious Y goers because it has the whole deal: sauna, whirlpool, steamroom, and pool.
Apparantly not all of them have the whole set. Besides, these Y affectionadoes arge, this one has a nice sense of community. This comment surprised me a bit because I haven't seen anyone singing kum ba ya in the rec room or anything. So, back to the story...
This morning we were testing the social code. I slid into the sauna and gave a brief kick to my conscience about bringing my damp towel into the sauna with me. You see a few weeks ago, a new sign was added to the door of the sauna saying "no towels" or the sauna is not for drying clothes, etc. In the good old days, there were thick wooden hooks on the wall, so everyone came in, draped their towels up there, and when they were done swimming, they could go into the sauna, sweat it up a bit, and hit the showers with a nice hot dry towel.
At some point they refabbed the sauna and the hooks were gone, so people started draping their towels on top of the sauna box. Not the safest thing in the world, but it worked. Then a few weeks ago, as I said, a sign went up. People ignore the signs. Especially the one that says you're supposed to take a shower between the various stations: sauna to whirlpool, etc. Almost no one wants to return to the locker room and shower. So it is ignored.
These social white lies we tell ourselves probably affect some of us more than others- some seem almost beyond guilt, but who can tell? I know I need to give my conscience a good kick to the curb when I pass a car on a double line, or turn aroud in a U turn, or fill in the blank with your own little social contract breaker.
So, as I said, I kicked mine to the curb as I headed into the sauna this morning, and I settled in for a quick sweat with my towel draped in front of me. Into the door walks an elderly Russian man and his soft spoken and soon to be embarassed wife. He declares as he enters- "there's a towel here!" Whose towel is this? Mine, I said. Now, I can't give you the exact text of the conversation, because his English was not great, but I could see that he meant business and he was angry, and.... yes, self righteous. As much as I am a pacifist in theory and teach non-violence to my students, and even went so far as to put a peace symbol on my PT Cruiser, I don't respond well to people telling me what to do. I responded to the old KGb agent (later I had wished I could have used that on him... this was in my... you should have told him blah blah blah stage), " what, are you the towel police?" He actually said yes to this, which only made the other fellas in the sauna laugh.
Had I pulled the KGB line, I would have felt guilty later, so I'm kind of glad I'm not so quick witted. I stood up and said I was leaving anyway, and as I walked out, another guy was exiting the sauna with me made a xenophobic crack about how he should learn the language. The guy said it to me to indicate that the Russian towel policeman was a nut and that I was not so bad. At least that's how I construed it. But as I walked toward the pool, I realized that of course, the KGB agent had been right. I had broken the rules. What I usually do in these cases is think of all the things I should of said. What I came up with after a few hundred soul searching crawl strokes was that I should have said he was right, but he shouldn't be such a douche bag.
Later in the whirlpool, I thought, if I see the guy, I will apologize because, after I get angry with people I end up feeling like a total hypocrite. I often hope to have an opportunity to make it right. As it turns out, he and his submissively quiet wife (long suffering as well) were chatting behind me on a bench. While I stewed and hemmed and hawed with whether I would take my opportunity, he narced out another patron to a life guard. He actually went over to the guard, made her leave her post, and ask this other fella if he had brought a towel into the sauna. Now, realize this, I have my towel draped over the sauna almost every day, and the life guards pop their heads in to see if anyone has died, and they say nothing. But this towel nazi had to be sure the rules were followed.
I had missed my shot, I thought. But instead, he headed back into the sauna, where I was heading as well. I thought, okay, it's time. I headed in and said to him, you were right about the towels and the rules, but you need to be less confrontational. He seemed to appreciate this, but like most people of the self righteous and confrontationary manner, he went on to expound on how right he was. I insisted, yes, but do you understand what I mean by being less confrontational? At this point, the guy he had narced on and his buddy had come in for a little meditation time in the sauna.
Sparks commenced. These towel rebels were in no mood to hear from the KGB, and, like any red blooded American who doesn't want to hear it anymore, they told him he better shut his yap. KGB towel man just couldn't let it go. He went on about the health hazards, and how people in NYC allow this, and the Y here didn't allow him to bring in a scrub brush, and how it was so much better now that the towels weren't being hung up on the walls. I told him I liked the old days, and one of the angry guys said to the old man, you better shut up because I came in here to relax, and I'm thinking about cracking you in the head.
Now I started out thinking of John Hobbes and the social contract. We in the sauna were nearing a state of nature where life is nasty brutish and short. If the old towel nazi kept it up, I wanted to tell him, life would be short. The towel nazi says to the angry man, I am not talking to you. He was suggesting that I wanted to hear his opinion, which was marginally true. Into this breach, a genial felllow in the corner says, how about the super bowl this afternoon? He had broken the ice, and the towel nazi was done ranting, his betoweled wife had fled, and peace resumed.
In the end, I had managed that damn conscience of mine, but I could see that I was not alone in not wanting to be told what to do. Part of the social contract, I have come to see, is playing the angles and edges, doing what works, and making peace whenever possible. In that working out, there are those who make the game more challenging...
