Performing

Part 1

Gary took the towel from inside the locker, the hotel’s insignia was woven delicately into one corner and there was no mistaking the quality. Placing it on the bench in the centre of the room he looked around and noticed that he was surrounded on three walls by lockers of brushed steel and electronic keycode locks. A reflection shuffled furtively in the large mirror on the fourth, sunken, wall. Unshaven, unkempt and unburdened from the troubles of work for a long weekend – leisure time had always leeched his face of purpose. Under the mirror an array of bottles promised beautification for men that made Gary just feel uncomfortable. What’s wrong with a shower gel and a shampoo? He wasn’t even sure what he would do with a shower ‘creme’, put it in a shower latte? Amused, he finished wrapping the towel around his waist and gathered his disparate clothes.

Two men entered the room. Gary made to ignore but stiffened to their conversation, concentrating instead on the minutae of the keycode lock; a bizarre contraption with a list of instructions. Input a four digit code and press the hash button to lock apparently, but after the third attempt it was clear nothing was happening.

“I don’t think that one is working.”

With his head buried in the locker there was a delay before Gary responded, ‘Hmm?’ The moment the noise left his mouth a flicker of embarrassment hit. They must have been watching him. He suppressed the blush as he made eye contact with them.

“The red light is on.”

The voice was cut-glass and spoke of breeding and confidence. Gary couldn’t help but think it was mocking him.

“It won’t work if the red light is on.”

Gary frowned and turned to the locker. Sure enough there was a red light. On adjacent lockers, only the closed ones had red lights. The other open lockers had green.

“It’s got to be green to lock, damned things.”

“Uh, yeah. Thanks.” Gary stumbled out the low broad response and to face the stranger and raising his eyes to make contact. The gaze was unflinching, fierce without the aggression. Bold without reproach. It assessed, nodded and gave that facial shrug that doesn’t dismiss but ends the conversation nonetheless.

Gary managed a half smile in response, slowly allowed his eyes to drop and moved out of the room. Making for the sauna. Years of boxing and he still didn’t pick up his posture until he passed the threshold of the pine-panelled sweatbox.