Topless

I remember my first trip to South Beach.

ahhhh....beautiful South Beach

 I was 18. I saw two things I hadn't seen before:


1. A man wearing a pink florescent thong with a perfectly tanned, round bottom
2. Girls sun-bathing topless

Not this kind of thong!

Come to think of it, I haven't seen a man in a pink thong since that epic day in South Beach.


Fast forward to yesterday, where I spotted the one thing that makes me cringe more at the gym than the Stairmaster: A TOPLESS man at the gym.


I get it, Topless Man at the gym.  You are proud of your developing body. You are happy your testicles descended. You are proud of your sweaty, hairy arm pits. You are proud that your voice only cracks a little...at the ripe old age of 35. I get it.


But, guess what? I could give a rats-ass that you are soooooo proud of your body that you must go to the gym topless.


MEN-DO NOT GO TO THE GYM TOPLESS!!!!!!


I do not want to see sweat beads form on your manly chest hair. I do not want to see clumped, white deodorant in your hairy, sweaty armpits. It's bad enough already that I must hear you man-grunts while "lifting". Or watch you watch yourself in the mirror while you grunt, sweat and sweat more.


Now that I think about it, there are places that will appreciate your topless manly swarthy hairy chest. In WEHO. At a club called Micky's. 

Look! Topless Men! Like you! Join THEM!

Come to think about it, the boys at Micky's might ask you to put your shirt back on!


With my shirt on,


Raquel