Our firm has a gym, and it’s the only thing I’ve loved about the place since my summer clerk days. It’s, by far, the best perk—and seems to be recession proof. It’s been my hour of escape from corporate insanity for years, but now it has been invaded, and it’s pissing me off.
It goes without saying that a law firm gym locker room is going to have it’s share of old dudes who like to let it all hang out. It seems that no matter what time I go to our gym, there’s always some partner sitting around in his birthday suit, even in the chairs around the TV when you first walk in.
That doesn’t bother me because I do my thing. I shower up, dry off, change and get the hell out of there because I don’t enjoy hanging out in a locker room. I don’t care what other guys do, but I don’t consider it a lounge. I think that fact reads pretty obvious when I’m in there, but I guess not.
I just started working with this partner on a major trial, and he seems to think the gym is an extension of his office. I see him in there all the time shooting the shit with other partners, but it’s never affected me before until last week.
There have now been four times that he’s waddled his butt-naked ass over to my locker and began talking shop! (And I do mean butt-naked. He’s not even wearing a towel.) He just stands right beside me while I’m trying to either get in or get out, and he goes right into talking to me like it is perfectly normal. He’s not using the locker next to mine or getting dressed in the process—he’s just standing there facing me. One time he even put his foot up on the bench and tried to stretch while yammering on about how we should have won this thing on summary judgment.
The last time it happened, I stared into my locker and suggested we continue the discussion (with our clothes on!) back in the office, and he actually physically patted my shoulder and said, “Sure.”
What the hell!?! A close-talking partner is bad enough, but a naked one is total abuse. I don’t want to see his old family jewels or nasty partner gut, and I sure as hell don’t want a naked man touching me!
The gym has become a miserable place. I go there to relieve stress, but the thought of this old man hanging in the breeze while he talks strategy to me is more anxiety than it’s worth.
Now I’ve got to change my schedule and the times I go, which sucks. And this is going to be a long trial, so I’m stuck with either getting fat or getting up at 6:00 AM to avoid him.