Tighty Whities; The Gym Locker Room

The thing was, James knew he didn’t match the masculine ideal. Oh sure he certainly looked the part— broad shoulders, tall, decently muscled and with a five o clock shadow— but deep down he didn’t have the same masculine personality to lead, provide or defend.

There was probably something Freudian about it all. He didn’t care to examine it too deeply. He just knew that other kinds of underwear didn’t feel right on him.

Still, it wasn’t as if that meant he didn’t believe in the underwear hierarchy. In fact the idea of it dogged his every step, and nowhere was that more apparent to him than in the gym locker room. It was where one readily see what men were made of. From newly minted adults to wrinkly seniors, the locker room was where certain truths were laid bare.

James felt a familiar small twinge of embarassment as he pulled his pants down to change into gym sweats.