cocaine probably won’t help you with your squat thrusts, ma’am

Picture this: you enter the change room at the gym, having just arrived after work. You change into your fancy Pumas and sports bra or whatever, and decide to go pee before you work out.

You brave the wet floors and gross old band-aids everywhere as the bathroom is shared with the public swimming pool. You enter the least nasty looking stall you can find. The stalls to the right and the left of you are occupied.

You are sitting there doing your thing when something on the floor of the stall to your right catches your eye. It’s a hand. “What’s a hand doing where the feet should be?” you think. You bend down to get a better look. Maybe someone’s hurt, slumped over Elvis style, dead on the toilet!

But no. It is a hand, but it doesn’t belong to a passed-out person. It’s doing something. And there’s a book. And a credit card. And some white powder. The hand is cutting up the powder and forming it into lines.

In a wet bathroom stall.

Where children are changing into their bathing suits five feet away.

Where strangers can just bend down and see what you’re doing.

Doesn’t that seem a bit … pathetic? In the very least it was an odd thing to see. I almost took a picture but was afraid the person would notice and go all coke-rage on me. But I had to tell you guys about it. So there you go. 

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